


Forevermore

by vindicatedtruth (behindtintedglass)



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: M/M, Non-Linear Narrative
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-15
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-04-26 12:16:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 44
Words: 26,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5004475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/behindtintedglass/pseuds/vindicatedtruth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The soundtrack of their lives, one song at a time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the track list of David Archuleta's ["Forevermore"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qFFrjoAxD7g) album.

 

 

**TRACK #1: FOREVERMORE (4:44)**

“ _I just can’t believe that you are mine now.  You were just a dream that I once knew.”_

* * *

Archie rolls over to look at his husband sleeping peacefully next to him on their bed.  The morning sun is streaming in shafts of light that bathes Cook’s hair in an auburn glow.  

He still can’t believe that they’re here, still can’t fathom how beautiful his husband is, still can’t grasp how _permanent_ what they have now is.

He still can’t believe he’s married to the love of his life—and that this isn’t a dream.

He thinks that he’ll wake up anytime soon, and he’ll realise that they’re still oceans apart.  He’ll still be under the tropical skies of Chile, and Cook will still be under the clouds of North America, and that this has all been wishful thinking on his part—

That this is simply one of his hallucinations during those nights that he has cried himself to sleep, wanting to go home… wanting to feel Cook’s arms again.

But this is real.  The ring around his finger is real, in the same way the ring around Cook’s is real.

On impulse, he wraps his body around his sleeping husband and presses a kiss to his clothed back.

“You’re all I need to be with forevermore,” he whispers.

There are telltale pinpricks of tears at the corners of his eyes, and damn it, he can’t be this emotional so early in the morning.

He feels Cook slip his hands through his own, and he hears the sigh his husband lets out as he wakes up.  He feels his own hands being carefully lifted up to lips that caress them lovingly.

“You’re all I need to be with forevermore, too.  It’s why I married you,” Cook says, an amused, affectionate smile curling itself around Archie’s fingers.

 _Endless_ , Archie thinks, _my love for you will be endless_.

He doesn’t know if heaven exists, but he thinks it doesn’t matter anymore.

He already knows what it feels like.  

He already knows that he doesn’t need any other heaven than this.

 

  

**TRACK #2: RAINBOW (5:14)**

“ _So baby, please smile.  ‘Cause I’m always around you, and I’ll make you see how beautiful life is for you and me.”_

* * *

 

Cook is staring at him.  Archie is grinning back.

“What in the world has gotten in you?” Cook says, half in exasperation, half in amusement.

Archie sprays him with the garden hose, and Cook doesn’t even try to dodge. Archie giggles when Cook glares at him beneath dripping bangs, looking very much like a wet dog.

“It’s hot,” Archie says.   “I think we need to take a bath.”

“Out here in the _garden_?” Cook exclaims, aghast.

“Well, there’s no one else around…”

“Does this mean you’re going to get naked too?”

Archie arches an eyebrow at him.  He knows his fiancé is trying to get a rise out of him, so he smirks instead.

“Are you okay with me being naked out here?  Knowing anyone can see us?”

Cook blinks.  Clearly, the thought hasn’t crossed his mind, and he narrows his eyes at his young lover.

“Are you planning on parading yourself, Mr. Archuleta?”

“That depends.  Are you going to let me, Mr. Cook?”

“You never want to get naked around me before.”

“Well, you changed my mind.”

Cook laughs, a boisterous sound that shakes his entire body, and he actually falls to the ground, clutching his stomach.

Archie looks at him fondly, feeling butterflies flying from his stomach to his heart until it lifts the corners of his mouth.

He loves seeing Cook like this.  He loves seeing how happy he is, how happy Archie can _make_ him.

He hasn’t seen Cook this happy in a long, long time.  

He steps forward and looks down at his dirty, drenched boyfriend rolling around on their lawn.

Cook grins up at him.  “Join me?”

Archie’s mouth quirks traitorously.  He tries to hold out, he really does.

Finally, he sighs in mock resignation as Cook tugs him down, rolls on top of him… and kisses him.

No matter how many storms will pass between them, Archie knows that just like the colourful sensations he’s feeling—

There will always be a rainbow after the rain.

 

 

**TRACK #3:  I’LL NEVER GO (4:14)**

“ _Every single day, you always act this way.  For how many times I told you:  I love you, for this is all I know.”_

* * *

 

Archie stops running to take a deep lungful of air.

He wonders what has started their fight this time.  He wonders what they’re fighting about in the first place.

He wonders why they keep coming back to this.

He looks out at the sea, and wonders how it can look so calm and yet so dangerous at the same time.

It reminds him of Cook’s eyes, and the way he looked at him that morning.

How many times has he already told Cook that he’ll never leave again?  How many times does he have to prove it?

… Just how badly did he hurt Cook, that Cook doesn’t anymore trust that he won’t do it again?

Archie squeezes his eyes shut and wonders when this will ever end.  When will he stop feeling guilty?  When will he stop being sorry?

When will Cook finally forgive him for leaving for two years?

“I love you,” he chokes out.  “I love you so much _it hurts_.  I love you, because this is all I _know_.”

Tears stream down his face as he lets the crashing sound of the waves wash over him, and briefly he wonders what it will feel like to drown in them.

“Please forgive me for all the hurt that I’ve caused you.  I’ll never go far away from you.  I promise you that.  But please… _please_ …”

He falls to his knees.  He grips his shorts tightly as his hands curl into fists.  The back of his hands feel wet and cold as the tears fall on them.

“Please believe me this time.”

He stifles a surprised gasp when he feels strong arms wrapping around him from behind.  He is pulled into those arms and—

“I’ll never let you go ever again,” Cook whispers fiercely.

 

 

**TRACK #4: YOU ARE MY SONG (4:02)**

“ _I look in your eyes; I know what you’re thinking of.  I try not to say the words that might scare you away.”_

* * *

 

Archie tinkers on the piano, playing a note and then playing a chord, and sighs when he can’t seem to get it right.

He looks at Cook, who is studying his own tabs on the guitar.  He thinks of all the things he can never say, all the things he _wants_ to say but probably never will.

He settles on a melody.

 _Why is it that every time I try to say goodbye, you’re_ right there _, and I can’t bring myself to forget about you?_

As if hearing his thoughts, Cook looks up and catches Archie’s gaze.

… _And you don’t seem to want me to forget, either._

Cook smiles at him.  “What are you playing, Arch?”

He shrugs.  “I don’t know, really.  I don’t know what I want to play or sing or—”

— _tell you to make you feel my love._

Archie feels his cheeks warming, and lowers his gaze so that Cook won’t see.

Cook tilts his head thoughtfully.  “Are you… thinking of someone right now?”

Archie’s blush deepens at the unexpected question, and oh _gosh_ , he can’t concentrate when Cook is looking at him like _that_ , as if Archie is _special._

… It makes Archie believe it.

Archie wants to _avoid_ Cook—wants to avoid falling in love _completely—_ because he knows that it’s going to be an _impossible_ love.  It’s not because Cook _doesn’t_ love him, because he knows Cook does, but...

But it can’t be possible for someone like David Cook to love him the way he wants to: forever, and always, and exclusively _his._

Cook is still looking at him—still waiting—but Archie doesn’t answer.  

He tinkers on the piano, plays a melody, remembers all the words he wants to sing for David Cook, and thinks—

_Someday you will know._

_You are my song._

 

 

**TRACK #5: HOLD ON (4:45)**

“ _Let me tell you that our love can make it through.  Hold on, baby, hold on.”_

* * *

 

The management asks him kindly enough what other songs he wants to include in his Philippine album.

Archie bites his lip.  He knows that both the Philippine team _and_ his own management want him to release a happier song—or at least another happy love song—but he thinks of his mental calendar and knows that his time in the country is ending.  He’s going to leave soon… and he won’t be able to see _him_ again.

He looks at the list of songs he’s studying, and firmly decides:

“I want to sing this one.”  

When he plays the song, the management is surprised.  “It’s a rock song,” they say;  “Not that you aren’t _good_ at it,” they quickly backpedal, “it’s just that… it’s not your usual style?”

Archie smiles sadly.  “I know. It’s more fitting for…”

He trails off.  They all blink at him in confusion.

He takes a deep breath.  “Anyway, I want to try this one.  Can we…?”

The team all look at each other.  “Let’s give it a shot.”

They step into the recording studio and try to run it once.

They all stare at Archie when he finishes.

His own manager looks at him strangely.  “That… is one of the most heartfelt performances I’ve ever heard from you.”

_That’s because it comes from my heart._

_My heart that’s missing its other half._

_My heart that’s going to leave its other half for two years._

_And I have to tell him—I have to tell him—_

“One more time,” Archie says hoarsely, even as his own voice is mentally screaming at him to _stop_ , to _rest_ , because he can’t afford to lose it on top of everything else.

“One more time… let’s run through it one more time.”

And when he puts the head phones on and closes his eyes, he thinks of the person he loves the most—the person it _kills_ him the most to leave behind—and sings:

_“This love we have: we’ve got to hold on.  Got a reason to go on, feeling this so strong.  Hold on.”_

 

 

**TRACK #6: WHEREVER YOU ARE (4:48)**

“ _Would it be nice to see the morning with the one you love the most?  Would it be nice to say goodnight to the one you hold so close to your heart?”_

* * *

 

He can’t sleep.  He steps out of his bunk and silently tiptoes his way around his roommates until he reaches the door.  He opens it quietly and steps out into the open air.

The stars are so bright and clear here in Chile.

He wraps his arms around himself to fight off the evening chill and settles himself onto the porch.

He wonders if Cook is staring at the same night sky.  He wonders if he is thinking of Archie, in the same way that Archie is thinking of him.

He wonders if Cook can see the stars in the first place.  The city can be a source of light pollution, killing all the light in the sky with the artificial, blinking city lights that can never compete with the divine beauty of nature.

It’s nice to be away from all that.  But it’s also a little lonely.

He wonders if Cook is still singing.

He brings his thighs up to his chest and wraps his arms around his calves as he settles his chin on his knees.

He misses Cook so much.  He misses his voice, his laughter, his smile, his eyes, the way he holds Archie as if he’s the most precious being in the entire world.

He wonders if Cook misses him too.

Or… is he already in the arms of another?

He swallows against the pang that shoots through his heart at the thought.

They never promised anything, after all.  He doesn’t want to hold Cook back, and more than anything in the world, he wants Cook to be _happy_.

But there’s still a selfish part of him that wishes… Cook will still find that happiness with _him._

There’s a sudden flutter of wings, and he is snapped out of his thoughts as the dove resting on the rooftop flies away into the night sky.

He wishes… he can fly to wherever Cook is, too.  So he can tell him… he still loves him.

… He has never stopped loving him.

 

 

**TRACK #7: MAYBE (4:33)**

“ _Maybe it’s wrong to say please love me too, ‘cause I know you’ll never do.  Somebody else is waiting there inside for you.”_

* * *

 

Archie stares at the video.  He pauses it, rewinds it, and plays it again.

She’s… incredibly _beautiful_.

Of course, Cook has always had an eye for all things beautiful.

But oh god, she is out of this world.

She isn’t even the type of drop-dead gorgeous model who usually frequents the LA red carpet.  No, she is…

Archie swallows.

She has brunette hair, hazel eyes, and a dreamy smile that is incredibly similar to… to…

Archie feels the bile rising in his throat and instantly _hates_ himself for it—for hating this girl for being a beautiful, female version of _himself._

He knows he shouldn’t feel bitter.  They set each other free, haven’t they?  They never promised… forever, or anything like that.

But god how quickly Cook has moved on.  It hasn’t even been two years, and Archie is being replaced by a _girl_ who looks a lot like him, who’s even the same _age_ as him, and…

Is this revenge for him leaving?

 _No_ , Archie tells himself angrily, _this is not Cook’s fault.  This is_ yours _.  Because you’re the one who left without a promise, without any hope to hold onto. So who are you to expect anything from Cook now, when you haven’t even left him with anything except—_

_Except your memories together that you thought were enough to sustain whatever it is that you have._

He looks at the video of Cook with his new girlfriend and wonders—

Do they still have anything left?

Maybe it’s wrong to love Cook still, but…

Archie looks at the way Cook is still wearing the ring Archie has given him, and he knows—

He knows to whom Cook should belong.

 

 

**TRACK #8: TELL ME (3:48)**

“ _What did I do to make you change your mind completely, when I thought this love would never end?  But if this love’s not ours to have, I’ll let it go with your goodbye.”_

* * *

 

Archie wonders how it ever got to this.

Cook is getting married in a week, and here he is, still pining after a man who has moved on from him.

He doesn’t even know who the lucky wife will be.  He thinks it’s still that girl he first saw in that video while he was in Chile, shown to him by a fan of Cook’s whom he met there, and it was bitterly funny because the fan didn’t even know that she was actually talking to Cook’s—

He can’t even properly call himself Cook’s _ex_.  They weren’t… _together_ , when he left, right?  So technically he can’t… he can’t call Cook _his_.

Archie looks at the engagement announcement and wonders where it all went wrong.

He should have promised to come back—to Cook, and no one else.  He should’ve told Cook that there’s no one else he can love like this again, ever, and that a life of loneliness is a life Archie can tolerate, but not a life without Cook.

He didn’t realise that he would have to face a life with Cook belonging to someone else.

He wonders why he didn’t just stop Cook from walking away from him.

 _No_ , Archie tells himself, _Cook wasn’t the one who walked away_.

The doorbell rings, suddenly, and Cook is there—

… with a wedding invitation.

 

 

**TRACK #9: REACHING OUT (3:52)**

“ _And I can’t stop, don’t know how to stop thinking of you.  I’ll do anything, do anything to be near you.”_

* * *

 

Cook catches his hand and blocks the door before Archie can slam it on his face.

Archie is _angry_ —at Cook, at himself, at the unfairness of the world—and he doesn’t want to pour all that anger on Cook, because Cook doesn’t deserve it, because Archie doesn’t have anyone to blame but _himself_.

Cook gives him the wedding invitation.  “Open it,” Cook tells him breathlessly.

Archie stares at him.  “Why?”

“Trust me,” Cook says, the wildness of his eyes belying the calmness of his tone. “Open it, Archie… _please_.”

With shaking hands, Archie takes the invitation.

His eyes widen.

“Cook…”

“I figured this is the only way I can make sure you’ll never leave ever again.”

“ _Cook_!”

“Okay, I don’t mean to sound that possessive and controlling, so those are the wrong words to say and— _fuck_ , I’m messing this all up, so let me try again.”

“David _Roland_ Cook—”

“You can do anything you want, go anywhere you want, and with anyone, just… with this, you know… you know that there will always be a home you can come back to.”

“…Yes.”

“… _Yes_?”

Archie shakes his head, wondering how crazy his life has become.  “Cook…” he says fondly. “Next time, warn me if I’m going to get married, okay?”

Cook grins.  “You’re never getting married again.  I’ll make sure of it.”

The invitation falls to the floor, forgotten.  It flutters open, and it reads:

_‘You are cordially invited to the Cook-Archuleta nuptials.’_

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**TRACK #1: HEARTBEAT (3:36)**

“ _With every right and every wrong, the endless nights we sang alone; for all the stones we’ve ever thrown, we can save these broken bones.”_

* * *

His heart is still racing even after the last beats of the drums have died out.

He looks up to see Archie still standing there… waiting.

Cook starts walking slowly, only dimly aware of the people around him packing up and setting down the stage in Sandy.

At the moment, he sees nothing but  _him_.

Archie seems to be holding his breath. Cook hasn’t seen him this silent and still in a long while.

He hasn’t seen him this  _scared_.

He reaches out and—for a moment, his hand wavers, not knowing where to touch.

Is he still allowed?  What if he wants to touch him everywhere?  What if he wants to hold him, completely, and never let him go ever again?

Archie steps closer and closes his eyes.

And he dives right into Cook’s arms.

Cook gets the breath knocked out of him as Archie clutches at him.  He staggers backward and holds the young boy close, and his eyes widen as he feels his shirt getting damp from the wetness on Archie’s face.

“Archie…”

The boy shakes his head and buries himself closer.  Cook can  _feel_  his heartbeat… beating in time with  _his_.

“I’m home,”  Archie whispers, the crack in his voice belying his tears, but with his face buried so deeply in his chest, Cook can feel…

He can feel Archie  _smile_.

His arms tighten around Cook as he breathlessly repeats the invocation:  “I’m  _home._ ”

**TRACK #2: CRIMINALS (3:38)**

_“The further that we get, the closer we are to finding love in these scars.  Because tonight, you and I, we can make our escape from the choices we made.”_

* * *

Archie blinks at him.  “Where are we going?”

Cook grins.  “Anywhere.  Everywhere.”   _As long as it’s with you._

Archie tilts his head.  “Are you going to tell my manager?”

Cook smiles wickedly.  “Not if you aren’t going to tell mine.”

Archie smiles beatifically. “Deal.”

It thrills Cook to have Archie this close, this  _daring_ , and most of all, this  _trusting_  of him.  By some unspoken agreement, Archie even lets Cook be the one to drive, because Archie wants to be able to look around the neighbourhood freely.  

It was Cook’s idea to have a drive around Nashville, where he’s settled now.  Archie happened to drop by the area as a rest stop from his own show.  Cook immediately suggested they ride around town, despite the fact that both of them have shows in separate states in the following days, because this is the only time he gets to have with Archie and he doesn’t want to waste any spare second with him.

He shows him around the places where he usually hangs out, casually mentioning the different activities Archie can engage himself in, so he is utterly floored when Archie suddenly says:

“I want to move here.”

Cook stares at him.  It’s the most daring thing Archie has ever decided—even more daring than his decision to spend two years in Chile—because this time, no one’s dictating these decisions for him; not his management, not his family, not even his  _religion_.

This… is purely Archie’s  _choice._

“…Why?”

And Archie only looks at him with a strange expression of fond disbelief, as if he can’t quite understand why Cook  _doesn’t_.

“Because…  _you’re_  here.”

**TRACK 3: BROKEN WINDOWS (3:03)**

“ _These picture frames that tear away from saying goodbye; but still there’s glimpses of the way we used to be.”_

* * *

Cook lets his head fall into his hands.

_… Shit._

He hears the door slam behind him, and he knows for sure where Archie is going.

Cook squeezes his eyes shut and curses himself, not for the first time, for the way his mouth keeps running away from him.

He needs to stop blaming Archie. For  _everything_.  It wasn’t the boy’s fault that he chose to go on his mission.  It was something he needed to do for himself.

And it certainly wasn’t Archie’s fault that Cook missed him like a dying man missed his lifeblood, because  _that_ —

That was Cook’s own  _choice_.

He looks up and sees the shattered frame that he threw in the midst of his anger.  It was a picture of Archie and him during  _Idol_ , which he framed and set on top of Archie’s piano as a gift.

He sees the broken shards and he stands up, determined.

He’s not going to let anything shatter them again.  He’s not going to let anything shatter  _Archie_  again.

… Least of all  _himself_.

He runs out and finally finds Archie on his knees right by the beach, letting the sound of the waves crash over him.

No… he will  _not_  allow Archie to ever be broken again.

Cook gathers him into his arms.

“I’m sorry.  I’m so,  _so_  sorry.  Please let us fix this.  Let  _me_  fix this.”

Archie is shaking so violently against him that it feels like  _Cook_  is the only thing holding him together, and Cook’s throat tightens as he chokes out:

“… Let me fix  _you_.”

**TRACK #4: LAYING ME LOW (3:39)**

_“But now the fire’s burning out of control, because I’m never gonna let you go.  So bring the gasoline and we can start the show.”_

* * *

Cook groans.  Archie is going to  _kill_  him someday.

He delves his tongue deeper into Archie’s mouth, delighting in the boy’s startled moan as he pushes his hand inside Archie’s pants to claim his prize.  He strokes upward and thumbs the leaking head, and Archie throws his head back with a strangled cry at the sensation.

Cook feels himself falling apart, and he isn’t even inside Archie yet.

He latches his teeth on that delectable flesh on Archie’s neck and sucks, wanting to be a vampire so he can taste Archie’s blood and possibly live on it so that he has a legitimate reason to say that he’ll  _die_ without Archie by his side.  

He tries undoing the buttons on Archie’s shirt, but impatience gets the better of him and instead he tears it all off. He swallows Archie’s protest with another needy kiss, greedily and unrepentantly sucking on Archie tongue before popping off because he wants another part of Archie’s anatomy in his mouth altogether.

He will never stop being addicted to this high: the sounds Archie is making, the way he is moving against him even amidst their clothed bodies, the way he is clutching at him as if he can’t get enough and—

And he wants Archie to fall apart in his arms— _only_  his, and no one else’s.

He knows that it’s probably not good for him to think of Archie in this way—bright and fierce and possessive—but he takes one look at the way Archie is arching against him and he can’t help but be darkly satisfied at the sight. 

The boy  _wants_ to be possessed anyway.

**TRACK #5: BETTER THAN ME (3:48)**

_“You ain’t even scared, ‘cause you know I know you’ll conquer it.  Yeah, you’re finally getting there; I wish I had it all, ‘cause I’d offer it.”_

* * *

 

Cook stares at Archie in disbelief. “So that’s it?” 

Archie can’t even look at him. “You knew this day was coming, Cook.”

“Yeah, I did.  I just didn’t expect you’d still follow through with it despite… this.”

_… Us._

Archie’s fists tighten and he scrunches his eyes shut.  He still doesn’t look at Cook.

He presses his lips together.  “So you’re really leaving?”

“It’s… it’s just going to be for two years.”

 _I can’t even_ breathe _properly for two days without you._

“You’re coming back, right?”

“Of course I am, Cook.  This is home.”

And suddenly, Cook doesn’t want to hear it.  He’s angry, he’s bitter, and he wants to lock Archie inside and never let him out until he changes his mind.

But he’s going to kill Archie’s light if he does that, and he isn’t that cruel.  Or selfish.

But  _goddamn_ , he wants to be.

“What are you coming back to?” Cook asks sharply.

Archie finally looks at him.  “I don’t know, Cook.  You tell me.”

Cook meets his gaze challengingly. “What if I moved on, Archie?  What if… what if I already found someone else?”

He doesn’t mean to make it sound so cutting, but Archie looks at Cook as if he has been stabbed directly in the heart.

“Then… I would be very happy for you,” Archie says, his voice small.

“Would you?”  Cook hisses.  “Would you really be happy to let me go just like that?”

This time, it’s Archie’s face that hardens.

“I won’t be the one letting go.”

**TRACK #6: CARRY YOU (4:27)**  

_“You gotta hold on, you gotta be strong, right here with me if it all goes wrong.  To keep you from harm, away in my arms, steer you away from the storm.”_

* * *

 

He has never seen Archie this weak.

Gently, feeling as if he might break the most fragile treasure in the universe, even though he has seen for himself how strong Archie is, how strong his  _spirit_  is—

Cook wraps an arm around Archie’s shoulders, hooks his other arm under Archie’s knees… and carefully lifts him up.

It’s a testament of how sick Archie is that he doesn’t even protest.  He only lets his head fall onto Cook’s shoulder as his arms dangle limply down his sides.

“You gotta hold on, Arch,” he urges softly, so Archie obeys, wrapping his arms around Cook’s neck.

He carefully makes his way upstairs to their bed and gently deposits Archie on it.  Archie lets his head fall onto the pillow with a sigh, and Cook helps in manoeuvring Archie’s limbs so he can pull the blanket over Archie’s shivering body.

He tenderly brushes the back of his hand on Archie’s forehead and frowns when he feels that the skin is still warm. The fever still hasn’t abated, despite the fact that he made sure Archie was taking his medication on time and with the right dosage.  If this doesn’t go down soon, he’s taking Archie to the hospital.

As if sensing the direction of his thoughts, Archie murmurs from the bed, “I’ll be fine, Cook.”

“How do you know that?” Cook says, suddenly breathless, feeling as if his heart is in his throat, because he suddenly realises how very human Archie is, despite how divine and transcendent he seems, despite how  _immortal_  his light seems, and he suddenly wants to make sure his light never disappears from this world.

Archie opens his eyes to look at him and smiles softly.  “Because you’re here.  As long as you’re here, I know I’ll be alright.”

Cook’s throat tightens.  “Okay, then.”

He climbs onto the bed and settles himself carefully next to Archie.  He wraps his arms around Archie as the other man folds into his embrace.

He doesn’t care if he catches the fever.

He’s not going to let Archie fall.

**TRACK #7: FROM HERE TO ZERO (3:43)**

_“And every point in between, from curtain up to closing scene, the spotlight we’ve been living in; look in your heart and please believe: I’ll never go, I’ll never leave.”_

* * *

The first instinct Cook has when Ryan Seacrest announced him as the winner is to look at Archie and pull him close.

This is officially the end of their journey, and even though he’s now the winner, he suddenly feels like he has lost everything.

He’s going to lose  _this_ , because now Archie has no reason to be around him anymore and—

And he doesn’t want to let go just yet.

“I love you,” he whispers in the boy’s ear—and he realises, at that moment… that he means it.

He feels Archie go absolutely still, and he tightens his hold.

 _It doesn’t matter what you answer. I love you.  I just want to let you know, and that’s all that matters to me._  

And then he feels Archie melt around him and return his embrace, and Cook feels his heart swelling.  

It’s not an answer.  Not just yet.

But neither is it a rejection.

He pulls back and sees the boy smile at him, eyes soft, and he thinks—

_I want to have this.  Always.  From here until the end._

And then  _his_  song starts playing, and all the idols are now rushing to the stage, laughing and cheering him on, and suddenly… suddenly he knows he has  _everything_.

He sings about the time of his life, and keeps Archie close to him, wanting to share this moment with him, wanting to share  _everything_  with him, wanting to let him know that he will hold on to him like this even after all of this is over.

He is never, ever letting go.

**TRACK #8: KISS & TELL (3:24)**

_“I… I’m never really awake; you take it all away until my will begins to break.  You… you’ve got me in your sights; you’re doing something right ‘cause all I see is blue tonight.”_

* * *

He knew he was going to fall in love with Archie.  That much was already apparent as early as the middle of the  _Idol_  season.

He just never expected that he was going to…  _desire_ him.

Cook looks at him now from across the tour bus.  All the idols are chattering around them, but for the life of him, he doesn’t hear a word of the conversation.

All he sees are those hazel eyes hanging on to him, and that slow curve of those lush, succulent lips when the boy realises that Cook is watching.

It makes Cook’s blood suddenly spike feverishly, and sends it all rushing directly southward.  

His jeans feel too hot and too tight all of a sudden.  He curses silently and clamps his thighs together.

He also never expected Archie’s  _reactions._ He expected that this meek, conservative Mormon would be the one to push him away.

Archie isn’t doing that at all. He’s being…  _receptive._

Whenever Cook touches him, Archie caresses back.

Whenever Cook looks at him, Archie steadily holds his gaze.

And whenever Cook licks his lips… Archie bites his own.

Cook doesn’t know what message Archie is trying to convey, but if this continues, he will not be held  _solely_  responsible for his actions.

He blinks when he realises that the other idols are now gone… and that they’re finally alone.

Archie is looking at him.   _Waiting._   

_… Nobody has to know, right?_

He climbs into Archie’s bunk.

And Archie, with a knowing smirk, welcomes him.

**TRACK #9: WAIT FOR ME (3:50)**

_“So I’ll keep dying slowly from this open wound until you come home again.  No matter where you go, yeah will you let me know: will you wait for me?”_

* * *

Sometimes Cook thinks he knows her. Sometimes he doesn’t.

But during the rare, sober moments that he does, he can recognise those hazel eyes anywhere.

“Where’s your Father?” he rasps, even though the tubes connected to his throat and the rest of his body are making it difficult for him to speak.

“ _Hush_ , Dad, don’t talk,” his daughter says.  Her voice is quiet and her eyes are sad and… why is she sad?

“Jasmine,” he remembers her name this time, because it was Lupe’s favourite flower, and Beth’s favourite scent. Deciding on their granddaughter’s name had been a no-brainer.

“Where’s your Father?” he asks again.

Jasmine shakes her head, and seems to have no words.

“He’ll be worried if I don’t come home,” he murmurs softly.

At this… those beautiful,  _beautiful_  hazel eyes well up with tears.

“Don’t come home just yet, Dad.   _Please,_ ” Jasmine begs shakily, desperately, and Cook doesn’t understand.

He  _wants_  to come home. He’s so,  _so_  tired.

He thinks… Jasmine will understand.

He closes his eyes.

When he next opens them, he feels… light and warm and… inexplicably  _free_.

He looks over to one side of the hospital bed and sees his family—his daughter, his grandkids, his siblings, his nieces and nephews, and all his other relatives—all crowded around his bed, crying.

And then… he hears a familiar, beloved voice calling his name, and he looks over to the other side.  

Archie is there, sixteen again, as young as the day they first met, and he smiles.  He reaches a hand out.

_“…Come home, my love.  I’ve been waiting.”_

**TRACK #10: I’M GONNA LOVE YOU (4:17)**

_“_ _No escaping this embrace, every time I see your face around the love I can’t erase.  I wouldn’t want to, anyway.”_

* * *

He doesn’t want this night to ever end.

He sways to the music as he pulls Archie closer.  He twines his fingers through Archie’s until they are palm to palm.  He lets his other hand rest on the small of Archie’s back as he tucks his chin by Archie’s temple.  He closes his eyes, breathing in Archie’s scent, trying to memorise the feel of his body, his warmth, his breath.

He won’t be having this for two years.

Archie shudders a sigh against him, and he feels his own chest tightening.

He thinks it isn’t a coincidence that their tears fall at the same time.

“Don’t kiss me,” Archie whispers softly when Cook tilts his face upward.

Cook nods silently, understanding. Archie’s face crumples, and he holds onto Cook’s collar as he quietly sobs.

If Cook kisses him, neither of them will remember the reasons why they agreed to let Archie leave.

If Cook kisses him, neither of them will let each other go.

So instead, Cook tightens his arms around Archie, determined to make this final dance last, all while silently telling Archie through his movements, his touches, the way he  _breathes_ along with Archie:

 _You’re not gonna lose this. You’re not gonna lose_ me _.  You will always have this to come home to._

_You will always have my heart, damn it, even though you’re willing to leave it behind._

Cook is crying freely now, and both of them have stopped dancing just to hold each other and  _breathe._

 _Don’t surrender.  Fight for this.  Fight for_ us.

_… Don’t ever let this end._

**TRACK #11: WICKED GAME (3:46)**

_“I never dreamed that I’d meet somebody like you.  And I never dreamed that I’d lose somebody like you.”_

* * *

Thrashing in his fevered dreams, his vision of hazel eyes flashes and fades.

Cook’s whole body feels like it’s on fire, and yet it’s still  _his_  face that haunts him.

He’s drowning, and he’s reaching for Archie’s arms, but he isn’t there.

He’s burning, and he screams Archie’s name, but he doesn’t hear him.

His insides feel like it’s going to explode, and he wishes,  _so much_ , as he tries to breathe through his hallucinations, that he didn’t fall in love with Archie.

The magnitude of his need frightens him.

It’s only now, when he’s brought to his weakest, lowest point—his body awash with sickness and drugs and alcohol and painkillers—that he realises that it’s still Archie whom he screams for, longs for, lives for,  _breathes_  for.

… And he isn’t here.

He wonders, in a moment of brutal clarity, if Archie is suffering in the same way as him.

And it’s that thought that makes his heart almost— _almost—_ stop beating.

What if the world breaks him? What if in his desire to carry the weight of the world, Archie crumbles from it?

Shakily, Cook rises up from his prone position on the floor and forces himself to  _think_.

What if Archie needs him… and he isn’t there?

 _Pull yourself together,_ he tells himself angrily. _Killing yourself slowly like this won’t help either of you. If you want him to come back to you, you have to be alive._

_So **live** , god damn it._

**TRACK #12: HOME MOVIES (OVER YOUR SHOULDER) (3:56)**  

_“I don’t know what I’m looking for; a light shining through an open door? But it’s enough just to have you here again, living on the wall.”_

* * *

 

He opens the door, and there—

“What the  _hell_  are you doing here?”

The boy only looks at him silently, waiting.

Cook presses his lips thinly together. Apparently, Archie remembers what day it is.

He steps back, turns around, and walks away, knowing the boy will follow.

He hears the door close behind him.

It’s been a year, but the pain still hasn’t gone away.  He beginning to realise that it never will.

He settles on the couch and presses the play button on the remote control.

The video resumes… and Adam’s laughter rings through the TV screen.

He refuses to look at Archie even as he sees, from his peripheral vision, that the boy has settled himself on the other end of the couch.

It’s been a year since he last heard Adam’s laugh, and Archie…

Archie  _remembers_.

He senses the boy watching him instead of the screen, and he very determinedly pretends that Archie isn’t there.

He very determinedly pretends that he’s alone in this, drowning in his masochistic sorrow, replaying the home movies he had with his brother, whom he lost a year ago to this day.

He doesn’t remember falling asleep.

When he wakes up, there is a blanket wrapped around his body, and the smell of homemade dinner is wafting from the kitchen.

And when he blinks and looks down, Archie is curled on the floor, sleeping with his head pillowed on one of his hands, while the other…

The other is holding on to Cook’s.

He has never cried for his brother like this.  But he thinks, this time… this time it’s okay.

He isn’t alone anymore.

His fingers tighten reflexively around Archie; and even as the boy continues to sleep, Cook sees Archie smile.

From this day on, he knows… he’ll never be alone ever again.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Only Hope by Switchfoot (4:13)**

* * *

_“I pray to be only yours.  You’re my only hope.”_

* * *

You find him inside the Church, as you know he’ll be.

His head is bowed, his knees underneath the pew, his arms stretched out in front of him in prayer.

You can tell by the way his shoulders are shaking that he’s crying.

Your footsteps are loud, echoing in the high ceiling as you approach.  There’s no one else inside but the two of you.

You know this is the only place he will run to, even after everything.  You sit beside him and wait.

The boy looks up — at the altar, first, then at you.  

(You aren’t sure who the boy is really praying to.)

“They’re separating.”

You can only swallow and nod.  “I know. I heard.”  Because what else can you say?

His shoulders slump, and you see something in him break.

“I don’t know what to believe in now.  Love… love is supposed to last, isn’t it?”

And it makes your heart ache to see this boy who believes so much in the everlasting love being taught by the Church he believes in collapse before his very eyes.

You kneel beside him.

“It will,” you say softly.  “When the love is real.”

He looks at you, but you are looking at the altar.

“It will,” you say, “with me.”

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Kuch Kuch Hota Hai (4:53)**

* * *

_“You came close, smiling like this. You don’t know what dreams you showed me.”_

* * *

 

He smiles at you, and it’s the first time you feel it.  You refuse to believe that it’s love at first sight, but it’s… something.

A tug in your heart that tells you… this is something.  Watch out for it.

“Hi,” he says, and that smile is something to watch out for.  “My name’s David.”

You smile back and take his hand.

“What a coincidence.  My name is David too.  David Cook.”

 

* * *

 

He smiles at you, and suddenly you don’t seem so tired anymore.

“You think so?” you ask, and the eagerness in your voice betrays how much you want his approval, more than anything.

He beams.  “I know so.  You’re going to rock it out tonight, Cook, that arrangement is  _amazing_.”

Your mouth quirks.  “You realise we’re in a competition, and we’re not actually supposed to be, you know, teaming up?”

He blinks, and his smile kind of fades then, and you suddenly want to kick yourself.

“You don’t… want to team up with me?”

And damn, you never want to see that smile disappear ever again.

“Archie, you’re the one I want to be with in that finale.”  You stick out your hand. “Is that a deal?”

Something in his eyes spark to life then, and your heart suddenly sings.

He takes your hand. “Deal.”

 

* * *

 

He smiles at you, and suddenly you don’t care who wins.

“This is it, Cook,” he tells you softly.  “This is the night when it will all end.”

He is looking out on that stage, minutes before the finale begins, and it’s the first time you see his smile tempered by an unspeakable sadness in his eyes.

You take his hand.

“No.”

He looks at you in surprise.  Your grip in his fingers tighten, and so does your heart.

“This is the night when it all begins.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Signal Fire by Snow Patrol (4:05)**

* * *

_“Hold me close, ‘cause I need you to guide me to safety.  No, I won’t wait forever.”_

* * *

He freezes at the door when he sees you.  His own keys fall soundlessly to the carpet.

He hasn’t expected that you still kept yours.

“What are you doing here?”

There had been a time, two years ago, when you would know the meaning behind every lilting tone of his voice.

You can’t tell what he’s feeling now.

You swallow against the lump that has suddenly formed in your throat.  “I’m home.”

He steps slowly forward, as if he can’t quite believe what he’s seeing.  As if this is all a dream.

Your heart is hammering so loud in your ears that you’re surprised he doesn’t hear it in the suffocating silence of the room.  “Am I… still welcome?”

He kneels by the bed where you are sitting. 

“Why are you here?” he asks softly, and  _there_ , you recognize that— that is  _hope_.

“Because,” you answer just as quietly, just as tremblingly. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. And…”

You finally open your hands to reveal what you’ve been holding on for two years ever since you left.

“… Because you don’t have to wait for me, anymore.”

His eyes widen.  “Archie…  _David_ …”

You open the small box and show him the ring you’ve been holding onto all this time.

“Will you… spend forever with me?”


	6. Chapter 6

**Want Ya by Darin (3:25)**

* * *

_“I can feel your eyes on me as I walk in.  Let’s get this business started.  It’s time to make my move.”_

* * *

You aren’t a jealous man, so you aren’t bothered by the fact that your boyfriend is in the middle of the dance floor of the gay bar with all these men surrounding him.

What bothers you is the challenge rife in his eyes as you remember his words earlier that evening: “I’m going to make you dance with me, Arch, if it’s the last thing I do.”

You feel a smirk cross your lips.  You aren’t a jealous man… but you  _are_  a competitive one.

You roll up your sleeves and pop open the buttons of your collar, baring your throat.

You see his eyes widen.  He’s always had a weakness for that.

You stride in the middle of the dance floor, and the men seem to part for you — they can sense when a man is going after what is  _his_.

You step close to him, bracketing his body between your arms and your legs… and you start to move.

His mouth drops open and his eyes darken as you grind your hips against him, making sure he  _feels_  how half-hard you’ve been from watching him all night.  You keep your eyes trained on his, conceding defeat, but also issuing a challenge of your own:

“Is this really what you want to be doing tonight?” you whisper in his ear.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Strange and Beautiful by Aqualung (3:50)**

* * *

_“You’d be so perfect with me, but you just can’t see.  You turn every head but you don’t see me.”_

* * *

The sound of a female’s high-pitched giggle filters through the open bus door just before he comes stumbling in with a grin on his face.

He meets your eyes, and you smile tightly.  “Had fun tonight?”

He winks at you.  “You bet.  You should’ve come with us.  Might have hooked you up with some girls too.”

You turn away.  “No, thank you,” you say quietly.  “But I’m glad you guys had fun.”

You’re not sure if he even hears you as he collapses to his bunk with a groan.  You look at him and sigh.  He’s fallen asleep again.  How much has he had to drink tonight for him to go down so easily like that?

Gingerly, you approach him and manoeuvre his limbs into a much more comfortable position.  You remove his shoes and park it neatly by the foot of the bunk.  You pull the sheets over him and smooth back the hair from his face.

Your hand lingers.  

Slowly, your fingers stroke lightly down his cheek, following the curve of his jaw… and to the blooming bite mark you see there.

You pull your hand back as if it’s burned.

You wonder why he always has to seek that kind of attention elsewhere.

… You wonder why he never sees you.  

 

 

* * *

**Trouble I’m in by Twinbed (3:20)**

* * *

_“I wanna feel your touch.  It’s burning me like an ember.”_

* * *

He strums the strings, and you feel your heartstrings respond.  He looks up at you from beneath his fluttering lashes, and you find yourself biting back a whimper.

“Am I… doing this right?”

His long, pianist fingers are pressing against the fret, and it makes you insanely jealous of your own guitar.

“Cook?”

He’s been driving you crazy.  This close, all the time, hearing him breathe at night just a few feet away from you… it’s been driving you out of the bus to seek distraction elsewhere, because you can’t give in to this, because he’s… he’s so  _young_ , and so  _pure_ , and you… what can you offer him?

He touches your jaw, and you snap out of your internal panic.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly.  “Is.. is the lesson over?”

You hear disappointment in his tone, but there’s also a trace of something else there.  Fear?  Hope?

… Both?

You turn your head so your lips catch on his fingers, and you feel your heart jump at the same time he inhales sharply.

“No,” you murmur. “I’m not okay.”

 

 

* * *

**Do You Feel It? by Chaos Chaos (4:10)**

* * *

_“But then we taste it, we got to have it.  We have no control.”_

* * *

Your hands are pinning his wrists against the sheets.  He is spread out underneath you, shirt untucked and rucked up, exposing the smooth, delectable expanse of his stomach, with his jeans unbuckled and unzipped.  His collar is torn open, the buttons having fallen on the pillow, and his neck is now a constellation of bite marks where you can’t help but suck and lave your tongue greedily against just a few minutes ago.

He whimpers as he arches against you, and his eyes flutter open, and you feel your gut coil at the unrepentant want you see there.  You tighten your grip on his arms as he tries to move, and he pleads out, “…  _Cook_.”

It should make you feel guilty to have this kind of power over him.  Instead, a hot brand of satisfaction sears through you.  No one else gets to see him like this, hear him like this,  _touch_  him like this.  No one gets to pleasure him like this, drive him out of his mind, until this is all he knows — your name, this feeling, this surrender, and nothing else.

You capture his lips in an open-mouthed kiss, to which he moans and responds wantonly, and that warmth in your gut coils tighter down your groin, and you press it down against his hips—

—And you curse out a half-bitten “ _Fuck_ ,” at the answering hardness you feel there.

You grind your hips together as you clutch at his jaw and force him to look at you.

“You aren’t allowed to leave me,” you say hoarsely.  “Do you hear me, Archie?”

You grip his hair tightly.  “You are  _mine_.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Marsh King’s Daughter by Eisley (3:45)**

* * *

_“And I just know we could work out, even though you’re royalty and I am not.”_

* * *

You level a stare at your stubborn, cheeky, ridiculously charming knight.

“You’re really going to follow me all the way out here?”

He grins at you.  “It’s my duty to protect you, my Lord.”

You sigh.  “Out here in the garden?”

“I might have to protect you from the thorns of the flowers and the bees that alight them and everything else that can hurt you out here.”

“You realise I am perfectly capable of protecting myself, Sir Cook?”

He looks thoughtfully at you.  “Of course, my Lord.”  His gaze turns soft.  “But it doesn’t mean you have to.  Not while I’m around.”

You turn your attention back on the pathway so he wouldn’t see the blush that suddenly feathers across your cheeks.  From your peripheral vision, you can see him smiling anyway.

“Why can’t the other knights protect me?” you can’t help but tease.

He huffs behind you.  “No one else is as good-looking as me.”

You laugh at that, and when you look back at him, his eyes are warm.

“Sir Cook,” you say softly, “you are making it hard for me to not fall in love with you.”

He is caught off guard by the openness and sincerity of that statement.  The smile that spreads across his face is heartfelt and genuine.

“That,” he says breathlessly, “is the one thing I don’t have to protect you from.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Bloom by the Paper Kites (5:04)**

* * *

_“Shall I write it in a letter?  Shall I try to get it down?  Oh, you fill my head with pieces of a song I can’t get out.”_

* * *

The coffee burns down your throat and warms your stomach as you swallow.

It feels almost like voyeurism, watching him like this.

He is curled on your couch, wrapped underneath your blanket and his head settled on your pillow, a soft smile playing on his lips as the morning sun streams through the window and bathes him in haloed light.

It looks almost surreal, like watching an angel becoming human.

He has stayed the night again, after you all but begged him to, under the guise that it was too late in the evening for him to go back home to his place, never mind that it was only a few streets away.

He easily acquiesces anyway — and you smile to yourself as you think he sleeps easier here, after all.

You put your mug down and watch him as you thoughtfully tap your pencil against the paper.

What song will you write about him now, you wonder?

He doesn’t know that you write most of your songs like this — when you’re watching him sleep in, open and trusting even in slumber, knowing that he’s safe within your house, with you.

But sometimes you think he knows, because you catch his eyes fluttering sleepily open and holding your gaze in a dreamy smile, before he rolls over and huffs out a breath and settles back to sleep.

It makes something in your heart seize, wishing you can curl up next to him.

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Drive My Soul by Lights (3:18)**

* * *

_“When you are gone, will I lose control? You’re the only road I know.”_

* * *

Of all the nights when you would have  _appreciated_  the traffic for once, it has to be tonight when the road is unusually free of cars.

It’s too soon, you think, as you grip the steering wheel tightly.

You steal a glance at him.  He is looking out the window, and you feel an unfounded feeling of spite at the way he looks so calm, the lights of the highway illuminating his face in and out of view.

Why is it so easy for him to leave?  

Instantly, you feel guilt and bitterness wash over you — of course he wants to see his family too, and that’s why he’s flying back to Utah.

But there’s a needy, selfish part of you that wishes so much he stays with you instead, just for a little longer.

It’s too soon.  Two years without him, and it’s too soon to watch him leave again.

All too soon, you arrive at the airport.  You help him with his baggage, and he looks at you, finally noticing the way your shoulders are hunched, the way your body is tense, and the way your lips are pressed tightly with swallowing back the words:

_‘Please don’t go.’_

 

 

* * *

**Stay by Emily Rossum (3:22)**

* * *

_“Memorize every moment, letting this love take you over.  Just breathe and stay.”_

* * *

You catch his hand as he moves to turn on the light.

“Don’t,” you whisper against his lips.  You gently push the door close behind you as you melt into him, opening your mouth against his with a breathy sigh.

He clutches you tightly, his grip on you like a lifeline, and you soothe his desperation with the tenderness of your kiss.

 _‘I’m not going anywhere,’_  you tell him in your mind,  _‘I’m staying right here.’_

 _‘And let me show you,’_ you think as you run your hands down his chest, making him shiver.  _‘Let me show you how much I need you._

_Let me show you how much I missed you.’_

Your mouth moves to his jaw, and you whisper in his ear that you’re not going to leave him ever again.

You wrap your arms around him as he swallows back the cry that threatens to escape his throat.

You hear him anyway. 

This may be blasphemy, but if there’s one thing you can worship other than God, it’s this man who has become your reason to live, to breathe, to sing.

You fall to your knees.

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Flyweight Love by Vienna Teng (4:03)**

* * *

_“Here I am, here you are, breathing a hello.  My flyweight love, flyweight love.”_

* * *

The sun is beginning to burn your face, rousing you from the half-sleep you have fallen into.  You glance down at your bare chest and your mouth quirks in amusement and overwhelming affection at the brunette head that is lying there.

It thrills you to have him so openly comfortable with you like this, even amidst the eyes of tourists milling about the beach.

It took you both some time to find a private resort that wouldnn’t recognise either of you, but once he gleefully discovered it, you both immediately decided it was the perfect getaway.

You reach up a hand to brush the sand away from his hair, and your wedding ring glistens in the sun.

Your heart jumps.  He’s your husband now, after all.

Stirring, he looks up at you, and when those hazel eyes soften, you suddenly feel all over again that you just might be the luckiest man in the entire history of the universe.

“Enjoying the honeymoon, babe?”

He quirks his mouth in the familiar way that he has inadvertently copied from you.  “I’m enjoying my sleep.  Shut up, you’re being a loud pillow.”

Your entire body shakes in laughter, which really doesn’t help at all as he almost topples over, and you catch him before he falls, and you almost lose it all over again when he casts you an exasperated look.

Then he reaches up to kiss you, soft and lingering, and you feel him smile.

“Good morning, Mr. Cook-Archuleta.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Come on, Get Higher by Matt Nathanson (3:36)**

* * *

_“If I could walk on water, if I could tell you what’s next, I’d make you believe, I’d make you forget.”_

* * *

The gospel today had been about Jesus walking on water.  An impossible feat, but not for the Son of God.

You wonder if someday the impossible will come true for you, too.

You shiver at the cool breeze.  You wrap your arms around yourself as you look out over the river you have just been swimming in.  It isn’t enough to forget, but it’s enough to drown it all out for a while.

It’s enough to drown out the pain of missing him.

You close your eyes as you think of him now back home.  You wonder if he’s in one of those smoky bars, bantering with the crowd with that cheeky grin of his.  It makes a smile play on your lips as you think of the mischief in his eyes and the quirk of his mouth.

You wonder about the songs he’s writing, and you wonder how many of those are about you.

Or are they about someone else now?

Your eyes snap open as you hear the Chilean children’s laughter as they jump into the river as naked as the day they were born.  You smile at that scene, too.  Life seems so simple, out here.  If only love can be as free.

If only the impossible love you’re feeling for him will someday be as accepted as Jesus walking on water.  

You shiver again, and you wrap your now damp shirt around yourself as a makeshift towel, and you imagine it’s him, telling you to take better care of yourself. 

Telling you that he’s still waiting for you.

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Anywhere But Here by SafetySuit (4:20)**

* * *

_“Is this the end of the moment, or just a beautiful unfolding of a love that will never be for you and me?”_

* * *

Cross the street, you tell yourself.  Just fucking cross the street.

His house is right  _there_.

What are you going to say, though?  

_‘I just happened to be passing by, though that’s not quite true because I was really several states away, I just couldn’t stop thinking about you, and I’m wondering if you’re thinking of me too?’_

_‘I know that the Idol Tour is now over, and there’s no reason for us to hang out anymore, but maybe we can hang out still, just like old times?’_

_‘I miss you so fucking much, do you miss me too?’_

You ran your hands over your face and laugh a little hysterically to yourself.  God, you have it  _bad_.

You still find yourself here, though.  Despite pacing back and forth with indecision, with outright  _fear_ , you find yourself unable to walk away.

He’s right there.  Just a few more feet away and you’ll be able to see that smile again, and touch that face again, and possibly wrap your arms around him and never, ever let go this time.

_‘Hello, is it possible for you to never let me go ever again, too?’_

Your eyes widen when you suddenly see the front door opening.  A very, very familiar boy steps out, and your heart soars seeing him.

God… he’s so  _beautiful_.

He finally sees you, and he stops in his tracks.

The street between you has never felt like a gaping chasm as it has now.    And you stand there, frozen, as you look at the boy you have possibly fallen head over heels in love with.

_‘Hello, is it possible for you to love me back?’_

He looks both ways before crossing the street — and that action is impossibly endearing — before he  _runs_  across the street and launches himself into your arms.

Surprised, you stagger backward as you catch him.

 

 

* * *

**Kiss Me Slowly by Parachute (3:56)**

* * *

_“Two shadows standing by the bedroom door.  No, I could not want you more than I did right then, as our heads leaned in.”_

* * *

He shows you around his house, taking you from room to room, pointing out the multiple picture frames scattered all around — and it makes you smile that most of them are on top of his piano.  

You are barely able to concentrate on the photographs of his childhood when the warmth of his hand in yours is so distracting.

He tugs you again, and he smiles at you as he motions for both of you to go upstairs.

You hesitate, glancing at his family who are all preparing dinner in the kitchen.  You catch Lupe’s gaze — and you’re not sure what to feel when she smiles at you and nods.

… It almost feels like she’s given approval.  

He tugs at you more insistently this time, and you can’t help but follow.  He shows you the different rooms until you both get to his.

You sense him hesitate, and it’s when your heart starts to hammer.

“Arch…” you begin to say.

He turns to you, suddenly, and buries his face on your shirt.  His grip on you is tight and trembling.

“Stay.  Please.”

He looks up at you, his face shadowed and backlighted by the window at the end of the hall, and you think you haven’t seen anything more beautiful.

Helpless, you fall into him — as you always have, over and over.

His lips are softer than you have imagined.  They part for you readily, his sigh an exhalation of your name.

It mingles with your moan of his.

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

**She Is The Sunlight by Trading Yesterday (4:56)**

* * *

_“‘Cause if right is leaving, I’d rather be wrong.  ‘Cause she is the sunlight, and the sun is gone.”_

* * *

Your band worries about you sometimes.  You know this, because… you worry about yourself too.

You have grossly overestimated your capacity to wait for two years.  It’s only been two months, and already it feels like you’re dying without him.

You’ve been at this for what feels like hours.  You hold onto your guitar as if it’s your only lifeline left.

You feel a hand on your shoulder.  “Dave.”  It’s Monty, and you blink at him as you snap out of the trance you’ve been lost in.  “Stop.  You’re bleeding already.”

You look down at your hands in surprise.  No wonder you were feeling them hurting.  You thought it was just your imagination.

Apparently, your fingers bleeding from hours of playing the guitar still doesn’t hurt as much as not seeing him, not hearing his voice, not holding him, not even knowing if he’s still fucking alive.

A watery laugh escapes your throat, and Monty carefully squeezes your shoulder and respectfully turns away as your face falls to your hands.

You press the heel of your palms furiously against your eyes.  God, you can’t cry about this.  Not again.

You sense Monty sitting beside you.  You pray that he won’t ask you.  You can’t talk about this, not without feeling like you’re unravelling at the seams.

You hear him take a deep breath.  “When you play that song next time…”

You look up at him, and he doesn’t comment on the way your eyes are red.

His smile is gentle, understanding.  “Let’s invite him to the stage to play with you.”

 

 

 

* * *

**One Day by Trading Yesterday (4:28)**

* * *

_“If I could find the years that went away, destroying all the cruelty of fate, I must believe that love will find a way tonight.”_

* * *

It’s Monty who texts you.

_‘Come on stage with us tonight.’_

Your heart skips a beat.  It takes a while for you to muster the courage to reply.

_‘Will he welcome me?’_

The response is quick.

_‘Come find out.’_

* * *

He sings—and plays—“Crush”, of all songs.  It’s just a snippet, but hope flares in your chest at the sound.  

You remember the nights when he’d hum it against your neck when he’d hold you close right after you make love, his smile a welcome press against your skin until both of you fall asleep at his chuckle and his warm, giddy happiness.

You see traces of that joy now.  And you are so,  _so_  happy that these years did not take that away from him.

You step out on that stage, and the audience erupts.

You don’t hear them though.  You don’t even see them.

(Out of the corner of your eye, you see Monty smile knowingly.)

You stop yourself right before you end up kissing him up on that stage.  He might not appreciate the, um, public display of affection?

He’s radiating light though.  You’ve never him shine as bright as he does now.

So when he asks you to sing, of course you’re not going to deny him — never mind that your voice is still hoarse, that you’re still tired from your trip to Afghanistan.

You will never deny anything Cook asks from you.

You settle your hands on the keyboard, and when he reaches over, your hands almost —  _almost_  — brush, and you can practically feel the spark between you, the electricity that has only grown more potent over the years.

You shiver, and you try not to let it show — but you can tell he’s having a hard time holding back, too.

(Hypnotised, so mesmerised.)

 

 

* * *

**I Need You Tonight by Backstreet Boys (4:22)**

* * *

_“I know that we have been through so much pain.  But I still need you in my life this time.”_

* * *

“Would you like to come home with me?” he smiles at you warmly.  “My sisters have been wanting to see you again.”

“Actually,” you say, your voice thick with the emotion you can’t hide, “Would you like to… come back to my place, instead?”

He looks at you, and he sees everything you can’t say.

“Okay,” he says softly, and something in your heart finally breaks.

* * *

You are both barely through the front door when you kiss him.

His mouth opens for you readily, and it’s such a familiar sensation, along with the slide of his hand against your hair, and the way he arches up against you, his leg hooking around your hip—and you groan as you drown in him all over again.

Those two years disappear in a heartbeat.

You want to move this to a more comfortable place—the doorknob pressing against his back can’t be pleasant—but you can’t actually do that when he refuses to release you.

“Cook,” he breathes against you, his voice caught somewhere between a whine and a moan, and damn it, you can’t do this here.

“Bed,” you say, because if you don’t have him tonight, you just might lose your mind.  “I need you Arch, please—”

“Shhhh,” he says as he soothes your desperate kiss, swirling his tongue almost lovingly against yours, and the tenderness of the action is your undoing.

“I’m yours,” is his whispered vow.  “I’ve always, always been yours.”

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Flesh by Simon Curtis (4:23)**

* * *

_“Hold me up against the wall, give it till I beg, give me some more. Make me bleed, I like it rough.”_

* * *

The door slams against the wall as he pushes you into his bedroom.

He’s never been rough like this with you, and… you are liking this side of him.

God, you  _want_  it.

You want him like this, desperate for you.  He sinks your teeth into your neck, and you let out a hiss at the sensation as he sucks, almost drawing blood, like he’s a vampire and you’re the only thing keeping him alive.

The thought satisfies you.

You grab his head and push him against the wall as you whisper menacingly: “My turn,” and you devour his mouth, hungry for the sounds he’s making as he writhes against you.  Your hands move to his buckle, suddenly impatient.

You want to know that it’s still you.  That all those rumours of a new girlfriend are just that — rumours to throw people off the trail of what’s really going on between the two of you.

Because the thought of him claiming someone else like this?  Of someone else marking him like this?

It’s the thought that gives you an animalistic urge to mark him all over with your name and scream to the world:

_“He’s mine.  David Cook is mine.”_

His eyes flutter open, and you realise you’ve said it out loud.

His eyes widen at the way your smile grows feral.  “You hear that?” you murmur as finally your hand snakes in—and he lets out a loud, guttural groan when you start pumping without preamble.

“You’re mine,” you say hoarsely as you bite into his ear, “and I need you to prove that to me tonight.”

And despite the way his breathing is laboured, his searing gaze seeks yours, and it’s the eyes of someone who has fiercely found his mate.

“My pleasure,” he says roughly as he knocks off your hand and moves to rip off your shirt.

 

 


	16. Chapter 16

**I Caught Fire (In Your Eyes) by The Used (3:28)**

* * *

_“And I’m melting in your eyes, like my first time that I caught fire.  Just stay with me, lay with me now.”_

* * *

When you blink your eyes sleepily open and you see the face of David Archuleta looking down at you with the softest expression on his face, you figure you’re dreaming.

It’s not until he shifts your head from his chest to his shoulder that you realise it’s real—and that you have fallen asleep beside him.

On his bunk.

“No, don’t get up,” he says reassuringly, and you see him blush endearingly.  “I… I mean, you seemed tired, and I’m sorry I didn’t wake you, but you’ve had, like, only six hours of sleep for the past three days, and you were nodding off while we were going through the setlist, and I didn’t have the heart to move you.”

You blink through the rush of his explanation—your mind can barely register the words when your gaze is so focused on his lips.

Which are  _so close_.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly and no, you can’t have that guilt in his eyes, you won’t allow it.

“Can I stay here?” you find yourself asking—and instantly, you know it’s probably either the best or worst thing you’ve ever asked.

Best, because the smile that lit up his face is a memory that you’ll keep tucked within your dreams for the rest of the Idol Tour.

Worst, because you’re not sure how long you’ll able to hold out before reaching out to know exactly how that smile tastes like.


	17. Chapter 17

**Juliet by LMNT (3:48)**

* * *

_“I know you really want me.  I hear your friends talk about me.  So why you tryin’ to do without me, when you got me where you want me?”_

* * *

You sit up straight when David Archuleta comes stumbling inside your homeroom, a few minutes later than when he usually comes in.  

Carly leans in close.  “You think he got your message?”

Beside her, Michael snorts.  “I don’t think Dave can get any more obvious.”

You sit through the rest of homeroom in agitation, barely hearing what the teacher is saying as you keep glancing in front of the class where he’s seated.  Ramielle, Brooke, and Jason are all crowded around him, whispering conspirationally, and it’s killing you to not hear what they’re saying.

The bell finally rings, and your heart jumps when Archie suddenly stands up and heads toward the back of the classroom.

Toward  _you_.

He stops by your seat.  Michael and Carly watch both of you intently, curiously.

Stiffly, he hands you back the Valentine’s card you stuffed in his locker.  

You blink when he suddenly runs away.

“Archie, wait up!” Syesha calls out as he rushes out of the classroom.  “We have Math class together, hello!”

You barely hear them as you see the big “No” that’s written in answer to the question in front of the card:  _“Will you be my Juliet?”_

“Aww man, that sucks,” Michael says he as peers over your shoulder.

Carly, however, flips the card open.

The three of you stare.

There, in Archie’s scrawly handwriting, is a follow-up:

_“I’m your Romeo.”_


	18. Chapter 18

**Feel Again by OneRepublic (3:17)**

* * *

_“I reached out trying to love, but I feel nothing. Oh, my heart is numb.  But with you, I feel again.”_

* * *

On one state: a heart burned by love, of failed relationships that left it bruised and broken.

On another: a heart imprisoned by society, of a religion that dictates what it should or should not feel.

On that stage: two hearts that started beating when it found its twin soul.

* * *

On that stage: two hearts revived after forgetting how to live: 

“Can you play Crush?”

“I… I could.”

* * *

On that stage: two hearts soaring as they sing the end of their beginning:

“Someone told me love will all save us. But how can that be? Look what love gave us.”

* * *

On that stage: two hearts bearing each other’s pain:

“If I told you that you’re everything, would you sing along?

Would you sing along, Manila?”

* * *

On that stage: a heart that relearned how to love: “Hi, I’m David Cook.”

On that stage: a heart that is finally set free: “I’m David Archuleta.”

* * *

On that stage, a declaration: “Then I must conclude, all I really need is you.”

On that stage, an answer: “You have made my life complete, and I love you so.”

 

 


	19. Chapter 19

**214 by Rivermaya (4:33)**

* * *

_“Am I real? Do the words I speak before you make you feel that the love I’ve got for you will see no ending?”_

* * *

The Archangel watches as he gets reborn again, somewhere in Texas.

“Your beloved human has been reborn so many times now,” he murmurs.

Beside him, you feel something inside you blooming to life once more. 

If you were human, you would’ve called it a heart.

“I know,” you answer just as softly.

The Archangel looks at you.  “Are you going to watch over him again?”

You give him a look.  He quirks a smile — as if he needed to ask.

He looks back down at that scene — the older brother, Adam, is looking at his new sibling in awe.

“I can give you that gift now,” the Archangel says suddenly.

Your wings flutter open in surprise.  The feathers fall all around you.

“… Really?”

“Just so you know,” the Archangel tells you, “you won’t be able to go back to heaven if I do.”

Below, the mother, Beth, begins to cry as she sees how beautiful her son is.

“It’ll be worth it,” you whisper.

The Archangel looks at you.  “It’s not going to be easy, living with him, with your love for him.  The world we watch over is… a cruel one.”

You understand that all too well, having to watch over him as he died, over and over, in all those lifetimes before, without ever knowing that you had been there, grieving for him, each and every single time.

“I know,” you say again.   “But… it’s also a beautiful one.”

And each time he’s reborn, you’re there too.  To watch those hazel eyes open for the first time all over again.

The Archangel smiles, and asks you one final question.

“Any last requests?”

Your wings flutter in anticipation.

“When you make me human… make my name the same as his.”

 

 

* * *

**Closer You and I by Gino Padilla (3:09)**

* * *

_“The closer I get to touching you, the closer I get to loving you. Give it time, just a little more time, we’ll be together.”_

* * *

When the Archangel tells you what kind of family you’re going to be born into, you look at him in exasperation.  

“Why?”

He only smiles at you serenely.

“So that maybe, finally, a religious family will realise that love always wins, in heaven.”

* * *

Your heart — and you can finally call it that — jumps when you see him in Hollywood for the first time.

You can’t help but swallow back a laugh.  What is with that hair?

You twiddle your hands nervously as you swing your legs over your seat.  Gosh, why do you have to be so  _young_  in this life compared to him?

(He doesn’t know you’ve already spent a millennia with him.  And that you’ve loved him for that long.)

A fear suddenly seizes your heart, one that you’ve never considered before.

What if… he doesn’t even recognise you?  What if he doesn’t feel the same way?

You bite your lip.  Can you watch him be married to someone else again in this life — knowing that this time, it could’ve been you?

As if in answer to the silent calling of your soul, his eyes suddenly find yours.

You don’t know if he feels it too —

But the music of your heart has finally found its perfect duet.

 

 

 

* * *

**Don’t Know What To Say by Ric Segreto (3:01)**

* * *

_“Don’t know what to do whenever you are near, don’t know what to say, my heart is floating in tears. When you pass by, I could fly.”_

* * *

You refuse to believe that it’s love at first sight.  That kind of thing doesn’t exist.

But whenever you see this boy — young, incredibly talented, and breathtakingly beautiful — you feel as if you’ve already known him from lifetimes before.

It feels like meeting him again, for the first time.

Whenever he passes by, you’re suddenly lost for words as a rush of something light and warm always wraps around you — like the comforting arms of an angel.

You shake your head.  Those things don’t exist, either.

And yet…

You watch out of the corner of your eye as he hums an unknown melody under his breath.  You swallow as your heart flutters, and you refuse to believe your imagination that’s telling you you’ve heard that song before.

(You refuse to recognise it as the song you’ve been hearing in your dreams, ever since you were a kid.)

He finally senses that you’re watching him, and he stops as he looks at you.

You stop breathing.  

Those eyes are  _familiar_.

You’ve seen those eyes once, when you were a kid, as you awoke from the last vestiges of a nightmare—

—and those eyes, telling you, that it’s going to be okay.  That you’re safe.

You’re safe with  _him_.

 

 

* * *

**Your Love by Alamid (5:29)  
**

* * *

_“Your love is like the sun that lights up my whole world: I feel the warmth inside.  Your love is like the river that flows down through my veins: I feel the chill inside.”_

* * *

When, you think in exasperation, has it begun to rain in California?

You look up at the heavens, shaking your fist at it in frustration.  Why now, when you don’t have a ride  _or_  an umbrella?

You hitch your jacket up over your head as you turn the corner.

Your breath catches.

The boy is there, arms spread out, his eyes closed, his angelic face upturned to the sky like a flower being kissed by the rain.

You suddenly feel jealous of that rain.

You suddenly want to know what it feels like.

Unbidden, you find your feet taking you to where he is.  He turns to you, as if he knows you have been watching all along, and he smiles at you.

“Aren’t you going to get sick?” he murmurs, and oh, those lips are so wet and so kissable that it makes you swallow back a whimper.

“Aren’t you?” you say hoarsely.

He shakes his head, and from the bag he’s carrying he takes out—

You stare at him, aghast.  He’s had an umbrella all this time?

He shakes it open and walks closer to you to shelter both of you from the pouring rain.  Your hand moves to close over his as you hold the umbrella together.

It’s the first time you touch him.

And with that touch, everything flashes before your eyes.

Wings spread out, protecting you from a war you never wanted to be a part of.

Wings spread out, blanketing you as you fight a disease you’re slowly succumbing to.

Wings spread out, sheltering you from the rain like this, as you cry over the graves of the people you failed to protect.

Wings spread out, feathers falling, as you kiss the lips of someone else.

You both stagger backward at the force of the memories.  The umbrella falls to the floor, forgotten.

Both of you stare at each other, chests heaving, breathing hard.

“It’s you,” you say in awe, in wonder.  “All this time.  It has always been you.”

“David,” he whispers.

You grab his face and kiss him.

And finally —  _finally_  — it feels  _right_.

 

 

* * *

**Heaven by Bryan Adams (4:04)**

* * *

_“Baby you’re all that I want, when you’re lying here in my arms.  I’m finding it hard to believe we’re in heaven.”_

* * *

You refuse to touch him in the way you both badly crave — in your eyes, he’s still so young, even though he wryly points out that he’s thousands of light years older than you.

(“I was born around the same time your galaxy was,” he has softly confided, and it has sent you breathlessly reeling, how this divine being fell in love with you — how, with all the possible worlds and histories and dimensions, it’s  _you_  he has chosen to give up his wings for.)

He is curled away from you now as you both lie on the bed in your room.  The sounds of the other Idols practicing their songs filter through the cracks of the closed door — you are all supposed to be preparing for your performances tomorrow, but tonight, the two of you begged for some time off, supposedly for vocal rest.

You reach out to touch him — and it still thrills you that you can do this now.

“Is this where they used to be?” you murmur.  “Your wings?”

The tips of your fingers run down his spine, and he lets out a full body shudder.

“Y-Yes,” he stammers.  “Please, um, please be gentle?  I’m… I’m very sensitive there.”

The boy says it in an entirely innocent way, but the words he has chosen — and the way he reacts — makes you shut your eyes and curl your hands into fists as you chant in your head:  _‘Just a few more months.’_

A few more months he’ll be legal, and this won’t seem so wrong.

 

 

* * *

**Angels by David Archuleta (4:08)**

* * *

_“Wherever it may take me, I know that life won’t break me.  When I come to call, she won’t forsake me.”_

* * *

He doesn’t know what price you have paid for choosing him.

But you finally understand now, why human beings throughout the ages can kill for a feeling like this, why wars have been waged over this, why people have lost their lives and have even destroyed other lives because of this.

Because this much passion, this much emotion, this much tenderness… not even heaven knows a feeling like this.

He strips you slowly, his eyes focused on nothing but you, his hands finally touching every inch of your skin.  His mouth follows — and you close your eyes at the otherworldly sensation.

This,  _this_  is what human beings long for, kill for, live for, die for.

You don’t know how the human body can handle this much feeling and not be destroyed by it, but then again, heaven has always underestimated the strength of the human spirit.

You never thought a human being can be this devoted, this worshipful, this eternally, deeply loving… until David Cook has showed you that it’s possible.

And when you died in his arms for the first time that night, the only feeling that has ever come close to that euphoria is watching a supernova explode, the death of an old star ushering a new one, and it is somehow apt.  

You know that giving up heaven has been worth it.  And he doesn’t know that this is all you’ll ever have.  

The Archangel’s gift to you is mortality.  The gates of heaven are now closed to you.

You can never go back.

 

 

* * *

**Leave Out All The Rest by Linkin Park (3:25)**

* * *

_“After my dreaming, I woke with this fear: what am I leaving when I’m done here?”_

* * *

The first time you see him in a dream, somehow you know that it isn’t one.  

“I’m his Archangel.”

You don’t even have to ask who he’s talking about.

“You made him human,” is your reply.  

He nods.  “He deserves that gift.”

Your eyebrows furrow.  “Of what?”

His smile is serene — and mysterious.  “Mortality.”

Something inside your chest suddenly feels hollow.  “But he can still go back, right?  After — after his time here is over?”

“When he dies, you mean?”

You grit your teeth.  This Archangel dude isn’t pulling any punches.  “Yes.”

Those steel grey eyes betray nothing.  “He came from heaven.  He cannot go back, not after he has become human.”

You glare at him.  “How the hell does that even makes sense?”

His expression is one of sympathy, and for some reason, you suddenly want to punch him.

“Mortality is a gift that has been granted only to human beings,” he explains softly.  “Angels do not have that privilege.”

“So why can’t he go back?”

He looks at you keenly, and you suddenly feel the full force of his power.

“Because for you, he feels too much.”

 

 

* * *

**Hero by Nickelback (3:14)**

* * *

_“I am so high, I can hear heaven.  Oh but heaven, no, heaven don’t hear me.”_

* * *

The first time you see  _her_  in a dream, you have to fight the urge to keep your head bowed the entire time.

Somehow, you know that not even the Archangels have the privilege of seeing her often.

Her gaze is kind, but penetrating, and it makes you want to have her approval so much.  “Do you want to know why humans are the Favored Ones?  Why the angels sometimes envy the mortality you have?”

You have no idea where this is heading, but you know that it’s important.  “They say it’s a gift.  I don’t really understand why.”

Her knowing smile is tinged with sadness. “Angels aren’t allowed to feel.  Not while they are standing guard over your world.  They cannot keep watch and not be involved if they are too attached.”

That makes sense — and you’re dreading what’s coming next.

“But you, David Cook,” she murmurs.  “You are extraordinary.  Something in you made one of our most precious angels feel so much that the once unattainable humanity is borne out of what is humbly divine.”

The look she sends your way is thoughtful.  “Do you think you’re worth it?”

 

 

* * *

**Out Of My League by Stephen Speaks (3:38)**

* * *

_“‘Cause it’s frightening to be swimming in this strange sea, but I’d rather be here than on land.  Yes she’s all that I see, and she’s all that I need, and I’m out of my league once again.”_

* * *

The first time you tell him about  _her_ , he looks at you with newfound admiration.  Intrigued, you ask: “Who is she?”

His gaze is bright with wonder.  “She’s the One all your religions are seeking.  The One all your religions are trying to understand.”

You let that sink in for a moment.  “… Oh.”

He smiles and snuggles closer to you.  You wrap your arm immediately around him, trying to bite back the question that might ruin the moment.

“Ask me,” he suddenly says.

You sigh.  You wonder if he has retained the power of seeing into your mind, or if this is a natural after effect of being in a relationship with a former angel.

“Am I worth it?” 

He raises his head.  “What is?”

“Giving up heaven for.”

He sits up and looks curiously at you.  He softens when he sees how serious you are — and how nervous you are.

“Human beings have always got it backward, you know,” he says.  “We angels have always aspired to be like you.”

Backwards, indeed, you think curiously.  “How come?”

“Because heaven has never been the goal.”

“What is, then?”

He smiles, looks into your eyes, touches your cheek, and finally—

Finally, you understand.

“… Love.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Falling Slowly by Glen Hansard and Markéta Irglová (4:03)**

* * *

_“I don’t know you, but I want you all the more for that.”_

* * *

You pluck at the strings, humming the melody under your breath.

You’re surprised when another voice joins in, together with the tender notes on the piano.

You look at him, at this curious, beautiful young boy that has caught your eye from the moment you first saw him here in Hollywood, and you find him smiling back.

You both continue to sing softly along, until your voices grow eventually bolder, louder.

You are both shaking with the intensity of the music by the end of it.

You stare at each other, and you feel something in you come to life.  Something that you haven’t felt in a long time.

(It feels like your heart.)

He ducks his head, shyly this time, and he seems to have realised how daring he has been. 

“You have, um, a nice voice,” the young boy says, talking to the floor, and it endears him to you immediately.

“So do you,” you say, and it’s the understatement of the century.  

You walk over to him and stick out your hand.  “I’m David.”

He looks at your hand, then up at you in wonder.

“I’m.. I’m David too.”

He slides his palm against yours, and your curl your fingers over his.

You feel like you’ve already fallen, somehow.

“Would you like to play again?” you ask, and he smiles.

You want to believe… he’s already fallen, too.

 

 

* * *

**If You Want Me by Glen Hansard and Markéta Irglová (3:49)**

* * *

_“If you want me, satisfy me.”_

* * *

The only sound inside the Idol Tour bus is the slick, soft slide of your mouths together, and you push him down on the bunk as you swallow it all — his breathy gasps, his needy little whimpers, his bitten back moans.

Nothing you’re doing is illegal yet, and you keep your hands firmly above his belt, but you can tell he needs more.

Oh god, both of you need so much more than this.

You press down against him, and you groan in part-relief and part-frustration as he grinds up against you, both your cocks throbbing madly against the friction of your clothes.

“Archie,” you whisper against his neck helplessly.

“A few more months,” he says in reply as he tugs you back to his mouth, and those lips are hungry for you, drinking you in like he’s dying of thirst.

You wonder if you can last that long, when right now it’s taking all of your willpower not to give in to the pleasure he needs, the pleasure you want so much to  _give_  to him.

“Wait for me.” He is biting and licking at your earlobe, and there’s a note of desperation in his voice now.  “Please tell me you’ll wait for me.”

Your grip on him is tight enough to bruise.

“Always,” you answer hoarsely.  “ _Always_.”

 

 

* * *

**When Your Mind’s Made Up by Glen Hansard and Markéta Irglová (3:42)**

* * *

_“So if you ever want something, and you call… call, then I’ll come running.”_

* * *

You slide to the floor as you press your palm firmly against your mouth to keep the sobs from escaping your throat.

You once believed that this was the best decision you could make.  That this was exactly what you needed — to grow up, to figure out what you really want, to be able to do some good in this world when you’re starting to feel incredibly… useless.

But how can you stand by this when you’re hurting so many people because of it?

Your father thinks it’s a terrible idea.  Your managers think you’re letting them down.  And Cook…

The sob escapes you anyway as the tears suddenly burst from your eyes.  You curl to the floor, needing to hold yourself together when it feels like you’re breaking apart from the inside.

 _‘You’re abandoning me for two years,’_  he had said, and that’s not what you want him to feel at all, for he is the last person you want to hurt… but is this how everything’s meant for you, after all?

Are you always meant to hurt the ones you love most?

Your hands are shaking as you dial your phone without thinking.

He answers after the first ring.

“I need you,” is all you say, before the tears get the better of you and your throat closes up.

He bursts through the door half an hour later, and he stares down at you.

You look up at him.  “… I’ll always need you.  I’ll never stop needing you.”

He gathers you into his arms and crushes you close.

 

 

* * *

**Lies by Glen Hansard (4:00)**

* * *

_“You’re moving too fast for me, and I can’t keep up with you.”_

* * *

You hear about the girlfriend from one of his fans, ironically, here in Chile.

You don’t know how to react.  You’ve talked about it, once, how both of you may have to think of a red herring to throw people off the scent, to hide what both of you really have.

Because you can’t give him up, but you can’t give up your faith either, and this is the only compromise you can think of.

You haven’t stopped to think if it will hurt him, having to hide like this.

Maybe you deserve this, after all.  You’ve been selfish to not consider his own wants and his own needs, and… if he finds that with someone else, who are you to blame him?

You’re the one who doesn’t deserve him.

You smile and acknowledge to his fan that you’re happy for him, but your cheeks hurt from the effort, almost as much as your heart.

You want to believe it’s still a red herring.  You want to believe that all the songs about goodbye that he has written and released aren’t for you.

He doesn’t realise you’ve never actually said goodbye.  Not once, in all these years.  You know you never could.

And now all these songs… 

“Is she…” you begin to ask, and you falter when his fan looks at you curiously.  “Is she beautiful?” is the only thing you can think to ask.

The fan ponders the question for a while.

“He never sings about her,” is the answer.

 

 

* * *

**Gold by Interference (4:00)**

* * *

_“And I love her so.  I wouldn’t trade her for gold.”_

* * *

“You know,” one of the agents muses out loud when she erases another comment from YouTube, “you’d be a hell of a lot richer if you didn’t keep paying us to do this.”

You snort.  “I’d do it myself if I could, except I don’t have the time.”

“That’s not what I meant,” she says casually, and that shouldn’t strike a nerve in you, but it does.

“I’d do anything to protect him,” you say bluntly, almost challengingly.

She levels a curious gaze at you.

“How long can the two of you keep living like this?” she asks, softening.  “Hiding from the public, from his Church, from your own families and friends.  Hiring people like me to take care of all the comments and pictures and articles online that are potentially revealing.”

“Delete that too,” you murmur as you see a new article, and she sighs as she works on it.

“As long as his love for me lives,” you answer, and she looks at you sharply.

“I hope he knows how lucky he is,” is her comment, and it sounds sincere.

“I think he does,” you say with a smile, as you watch him sing in one of those YouTube videos.  He really does love that Forevermore song, and it warms your heart to hear it again.

“I think he does,” you repeat softly, “because I know how lucky I am, too.”

 

 

* * *

**The Hill by Markéta Irglová (4:36)**

* * *

_“I’m on my knees in front of him, but he doesn’t seem to see me.  With all his troubles on his mind, he’s looking right through me.”_

* * *

It would’ve been better if there were tears.  You know how to deal with them.

But this… this complete silence, shutting you out, shutting everyone out… you don’t know how to deal with this kind of grief.

You kneel in front of him.  His palms are resting on his knees, his head bowed as he sits down shakily.

He has just heard about Adam.

Hesitantly, you place your hands over his.  He doesn’t move.  Doesn’t say anything.

Doesn’t even acknowledge that you’re there.

All the words die in your throat.  You don’t know what you can say — everything you’ve ever learned in Church seems useless and empty and unfeeling when faced with real loss.

You press your forehead against his, even as his bangs cover his eyes.  

You don’t know what to do.  All you know is… you can’t leave him alone.  Not now.  Especially not now.

You close your eyes as you breathe with him.

The back of your hands feel wet, suddenly, and your eyes snap open. 

He is falling into you.

You wrap your arms around him as he finally lets himself break.  He holds onto you, breathing you in, and you close your eyes and pray—

_‘Please.  Please let me be enough.  Please let me be strong enough for him._

_Please teach me how to take his pain away.’_

You run your hands up and down his back, and you croon at him softly, a song he doesn’t recognise but one that has always brought you comfort.

You don’t know if he hears you. 

 

 

* * *

**Fallen From The Sky by The Frames (3:25)**

* * *

_“You must have fallen from the sky.  You must have come here in the pouring rain.  You took so many through the light, and now you’re on your own.”_

* * *

You’re the only one who sees the way his shoulders slump oh so minutely as he lets himself breathe for a moment.

And then the fans come pouring in, and you see him immediately straighten and put on his most blinding smile.

You’re the only one who sees the tiredness around his eyes, at the dark circles that he’s learned to hide with make-up.

You watch over him silently even as you smile and banter with your own fans, keeping him in your peripheral vision as he cheerily chats with his.

You’re the only who sees the way his hands are beginning to shake as he signs his autographs, and that’s the cue you’re waiting for.

You thank your fans one last time and stride over to where he is.  You swing your arm around him without preamble, and he jumps as he looks at you.

“Cook?”

You grin at the crowd.  “It’s time we all take a break, don’t you think?  We’ll be back in a few, I promise.  Just going to borrow my boy here for a bit,” you say with a cheeky wink, and the fans laugh as he cries out, “Cook!”

You drag him away from the crowd anyway as you say seriously, “When was the last time you ate?”

He blinks at you.  “I… don’t remember?”

You curse under your breath.  “Archie, you do realise you should put yourself first before everyone else?”

 

 

* * *

**Leave by Glen Hansard (2:47)**

* * *

_“You said what you have to.  Now, leave.”  
_

* * *

It’s a three-way standstill, and the tension is rife in the room.

“Leave,” he says quietly, and your heart drops.

Shakily, you stand up — and he looks sharply at you.

“Not you,” he says.  He turns to the other man in the room.  “Leave.  Now.”

You gape at him.  You never thought you’ll ever hear him speak that way to his own pastor.

The man, to his credit, holds his gaze as he stands.  “You’re making a big mistake, Elder Archuleta.”

He smiles, but there’s no life in his eyes when he says, “Actually, I think I’ve finally freed myself from the biggest mistake of my life.”

The pastor looks taken aback.

“Leave,” he repeats viciously, and it’s the first time you hear such venom in his voice.  “If you’ve come here to try and convince me to turn my back on the most honourable and most kindhearted man I know, then I do not need you in my life.”

 

 

* * *

**Trying to Pull Myself Away by Glen Hansard (3:36)**

* * *

_“Bang bang down on the piano till I smash keys, listening alone with the melodies.  Everything’s gone.”_

* * *

You stare down at your hands.  You can’t write music anymore.

You stare unseeingly at your keyboard, at the music sheets spread out in front of you full of crossed-out scribbles, at the crumpled up paper all around your feet and—

You’re afraid, suddenly, that you don’t know who you are anymore.

You thought that once you come back, you’ll have the answers to the questions you had before you left two years ago.

It seems that you now have more questions than ever.  And one of the most pressing and most distressing is:

Who are you without your music?

You blink when you hear the strains of a guitar strumming behind you.  You whirl around — and he’s there, smiling at you.

“You had a nice chord progression there, Arch,” he says, and you frown.

“No, I didn’t.”

He quirks his mouth at you, and you scowl at the way he looks so amused.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he says with a chuckle.  He softens as he looks at you thoughtfully.  “Let’s try together, shall we?”

You press your lips together, but you can never deny him whenever he asks you for anything.

He stays on the couch behind you as he strums along to the chords you’re tinkering with.

“What are you feeling?” he murmurs.

“Nothing,” you say bitterly, and both of you freeze.

You curl your hand into a fist.

“And I *hate* that,” you say quietly.  “I don’t want to feel numb.”

There is silence for several seconds.  Then—

“Write about that,” he tells you.

 

 

* * *

**All The Way Down by Glen Hansard (2:39)  
**

* * *

_“And you have broken me all the way now.  You’ll be the last, you’ll see.  And some fight you gave, when I pushed you away from me.”_

* * *

You watch the way his shoulders move up and down slowly as he deeply sleeps.

This man has sacrificed so much for you.  What can you sacrifice for him?

You curl yourself closer to him as you breathe him in, letting his familiar scent and comforting warmth soothe you and give you strength.

This is such a little thing, after all, after everything he’s done for you.

You smile a little sadly.  He’ll be angry be with you in the morning, for deciding this without him.  But then again, you think that this is a decision you have to make on your own.

This is a fight you have to shoulder on your own.

You reach out to run your fingers through his hair.

“I’m sorry,” you say softly, “but I’m tired of hiding.  And I’m tired… of hurting you, each time we do.”

He exhales loudly, but he doesn’t stir.

You press your forehead against his nape.  “So let me fight for us, this time,” you whisper, even as tears prickle your eyes at the thought of what you’re about to do.

You take a deep breath as you quietly rise from the bed and slip out of the room.

You lean back against the door as you call your manager.

“I’m ready to make a statement now.”

 

 

* * *

**Once by Glen Hansard and Markéta Irglová (3:38)**

* * *

_“Part of me has died and won’t return.  And part of me wants to hide: the part that’s burned.”_

* * *

You stare at the words splashed like vicious graffiti all over your screen.

Even your people can’t do anything about this now.  Not with something this big.

You look at him across the room.  He is turned away from you, his head bowed, his hands gripping the edge of bed as he sits there, looking defeated.

You want to cry in anger at how unfair the world is.  Here is the kindest person you know, and yet he is being cast away from his own Church simply because of the sin of loving.

No, you tell yourself as you stand up, determined.  Loving is never a sin.

You sit beside him on the bed.  Your arms readily open for him as he turns to you, seeking your embrace.

You press a kiss to his hair.  “Thank you,” is what you say, and it’s the last thing he expects you to say.

He has never been good at holding back his tears.  Today is no exception, as his sobs spill from his lips and his shoulders shake.

“I’m sorry,” is what he says, and gently, you tuck your fingers under his chin and make him look at you.  

“I’m not,” you say softly.

Something in his eyes breaks.  “Love me,” he begs.

You nod.  “Always,” you promise, as you lower him to the bed.

 

 

* * *

**Say It To Me Now by Glen Hansard (2:35)**

* * *

_“‘Cause I’m picking up a message, Lord, and I’m closer than I’ve ever been before.  So if you have something to say, say it to me now.”_

* * *

It’s the first time you appear together publicly after the fallout.

You glance at him as cameras flash all around you.  He steps forward, his hand wrapped tightly around yours.

The reporters all throw out the same question: why now?

You look at him, waiting for his answer.  He closes his eyes and smiles.

And amidst this chaos, he has never looked more at peace.

He raises his hand, showing his wedding ring.  He finally gets to wear it this time, to match yours — the one you’ve been wearing as an alibi.

He is looking at you when he speaks.

“The first letter of Paul to the Corinthians, chapter thirteen, verse eight.”

And it’s that look in his eyes that makes it all worth it.

“Love never fails.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Sure Be Cool If You Did by Blake Shelton (3:33)**

_“You can’t shoot me down ‘cause you’ve already knocked me dead  
_ _Got me falling apart with my heart talking out of my head  
_ _Let your mind take a little back road just as far as you wanna go  
_ _Baby, I’ll do whatever you wanna do.”_

* * *

Archie is pulling out all the stops, and Cook can’t stop grinning.

He tells Archie that he doesn’t actually have to take him out on a date—hell, he’s more looking forward to what happens _afterward_ —but Archie is adamant in his decision to court and woo Cook. 

“I’ve waited so long to do this,” says Archie with a glint in his eye that is equal parts mischievous and fond. “Let me do this right?”

And it shouldn’t make Cook feel giddy, being romanced like some teenage girl, but it turns out that Archie is very, very good at this courting thing.

He appears at Cook’s door all buttoned up in his best shirt and jeans, his throat bared at the collar, and Cook has to swallow and remind himself to keep his hands to himself, even though it’s very, very tempting to undo Archie’s buttons right there.

Archie, seemingly reading his mind, smirks at him.

“I don’t put out on a first date,” he says smoothly.

“Neither do I,” Cook retorts, putting on a disappointed face, although he’s secretly thrilled at the way Archie is teasing him.

Archie laughs, the sound bright and lighthearted, and Cook can’t help but melt into his shoes anyway.

“On a second date though…?” Archie says hopefully.

Cook grins.  “On the second date, it’ll be my treat.”


	22. Chapter 22

**Who Are You When I’m Not Looking by Blake Shelton (3:08)**

_“Who are you when I’m not around?  
_ _When the door is locked and the shades are down?  
_ _Do you listen to your music quietly?  
_ _And when it feels just right, are you thinking of me?”_

* * *

Cook rolls over in his bunk and looks at Archie across the tour bus.  The boy is caught up in his own world with his headphones on and swaying to a music only he can hear.  On his lap is a piece of paper, and he is tapping a pencil distractedly on it, and Cook is fascinated by the open expression on Archie’s face as he smiles and closes his eyes, savouring the music.

Cook feels strangely like a voyeur, watching Archie like this when he thinks everyone else is asleep.  He keeps his eyes half-closed as he sees Archie break into a wider smile and scribble something down, and Cook realises Archie is writing songs.

 _‘What do you write about, Archie_?’ Cook thinks sleepily, his gaze softening.  ‘ _Do you write about me?’_

He looks at the smile on Archie’s face, and he wonders at what can be the reason that makes Archie so happy.

Cook hopes… it’s _him_.


	23. Chapter 23

**Mine Would Be You by Blake Shelton (4:00)**

_“Standing there like a fool, when I should’ve been running  
_ _Yelling’ out something to make you wanna hold on to the best love ever  
_ _Can you tell me the one thing you’d rather die than lose?  
_ _‘Cause mine would be you.”_

* * *

It feels like a scene from a crappy romcom movie, except Cook doesn’t know how this one will end.

He doesn’t want _this_ to end.

“What are you doing here, Cook?” Archie gapes.

Around him, his co-missionaries are whispering in intrigue, and Archie determinedly walks away from them to step closer to Cook.

“I’m boarding in five minutes,” Archie says softly.  “Why are you here?” 

And Cook swears he practiced everything he wants to say as he was going here at the airport: things like ‘ _how am I going to survive two years without you?’_ or ‘ _please don’t forget about me’_ or ‘ _I’ll miss you so bad, will you even miss me_?’ and most importantly: ‘ _I love you, please don’t leave.’_

“Cook?”

“I’ve been working on a rock version of _Crush_ ,” Cook blurts out instead.

Archie blinks.  “That’s… nice?”

Cook takes a deep breath.  “So when you come back… I want us to sing it together.”

Archie stares.

Cook stammers: “… Only if you want to.”

 _‘Please say yes,’_ Cook prays.  ‘ _Please, please say you’ll be coming home.’_

For a moment, Archie seems too shocked into stillness.  Finally, he cocks his head thoughtfully and wonders:

“Why do you like that song so much?”

 _‘Because I caught you writing that song and I know it’s about me_ ,’ Cook wants to say. ‘ _And I want you to know: it’s not just another crush.’_

_‘It’s real.’_


	24. Chapter 24

**Daylight by Maroon 5 (3:49)**

“ _And when the daylight comes I’ll have to go  
_ _But tonight I’m gonna hold you so close  
_ _‘Cause in the daylight we’ll be on our own  
_ _But tonight I need to hold you so close.”_

* * *

He slips into Cook’s bunk before he loses the last remaining threads of his courage.  Cook, understandably, is surprised. 

“Archie?” he rasps out, his voice hoarse from sleep, and Archie squeezes his eyes shut as he curves his entire body around Cook’s back, his fingers clutching hesitantly at Cook’s shirt. 

“Can… can I stay here?”

He waits, heart in his throat, for Cook to answer, and he nearly jumps out of his skin when Cook suddenly turns over to face him.  Hazel-blue eyes regard him, and Archie finds himself at a loss for words.

They’ve never been this close before.

“What’s wrong, Arch?” Cook gently asks.

Arch opens his mouth to answer, but finds his breath stolen from his lungs when Cook reaches over to brush the hair away from his forehead.  Archie’s face warms at the touch.  

“I…” he swallows and tries again. “I don’t want you to go.”

Cook stills, and drops his hand.

“… The tour is over, Arch,” says Cook matter-of-factly.

And Archie _hates_ how that statement makes a lump form in his throat; he’s suddenly fighting the very strong urge to cry.

“But I want… to stay with you.”

And he tucks his face into Cook’s neck, and hopes he doesn’t ask for answers Archie isn’t ready to give.

Instead, Cook tilts his chin up and tells him softly:

“I promise you, Arch… this won’t be our last night together.”


	25. Chapter 25

_"Stay, tell me the story again, how it all fell apart in the end; wait, I can see us slipping away; I'm right here, I'm right here, just stay with me."_

* * *

Archie curls his fingers over Cook, mutely offering the comfort of connection; Cook looks at him, the skin under his eyes dark and bruised from long nights of watching over at the hospital; Beth and Andrew had to resort to calling Archie to take Cook home because Cook absolutely refused to leave Adam's side—  

Now, Archie gently touches those dark circles with his fingertips; he doesn't offer empty platitudes, knowing it won't help; instead, Archie presses his forehead to Cook as he curls his hand over Cook's nape, wordlessly telling him to breathe, just breathe, I'm right here, I'm right here—

_I'm staying with you._


	26. Chapter 26

_"You say you're leaving as you look away, I know there's really nothing else to say; I can't fix you, I can't save you, it's something you have to do."_

* * *

Archie intends to move, he really does, but he finds himself rooted to the spot as he watches Cook walk away; this is the last spot on their tour and already Cook has another flight where he has to board to a gig his management has booked way ahead of time— 

And Archie knows he has his own show to attend to, after a radio interview that's due in a couple of hours; but right now all he sees is the sight of Cook's back as he drags his luggage behind him, and the further Cook walks away, the more Archie feels his heart swelling, as if it wants to burst out of his chest and follow Cook wherever he goes—

Suddenly, he sees Cook freeze ahead of him, and Archie feels like his breath stopped with him.

Cook turns around and catches his gaze; and Archie doesn't know what Cook sees in his eyes, but Cook's face suddenly crumples and looks as broken as Archie feels; with just a few strides, Cook reaches Archie and grabs him to crush him close—

"I'll miss you," Cook says hoarsely. "Fuck, Archie, I'll _miss_ you."


	27. Chapter 27

_"You are so beautiful; when it's all said and done, I'll just be a speck in your galaxy; tell me it's not possible, no way that we could break."_

* * *

The stage lights are blinding, the heat of it scorching down his neck, and Cook can feel the sweat trickling down his back, plastering his shirt to his skin. He shakes his sweat-soaked bangs out of his eyes as he looks out at the audience; the grin he has plastered over his face fades a little as the faces all blur into one another.

 _What I wouldn't give_ , Cook thinks suddenly, his fingers slipping on a note on the guitar, _to see your face again_.

He thinks of Archie, and imagines the way the younger man's face would light up when Cook would play a song for him, the demos Cook is still hesitant to let the public hear and is still hesitant to let Archie know the real meaning of, to let him know who Cook is truly singing those songs to.

He thinks of the months without him and the months ahead of them still, and the fear strikes him so suddenly, eating at his heart:

What if Archie never returns? What if Archie decides his mission in the world is bigger than Cook and the life Cook hopes they can build together, and Cook—

What if he loses his very reason to _sing_?

His bandmates all look at him as he pauses before the next song, both hands clutching at the mic stand as he ducks his head to breathe.

 _Then I can't_ , Cook thinks solemnly as he hears the crowd cheer for him, the sound resonating loudly against the empty cavity of his chest where a bright-eyed boy used to be.

_... I can't do this anymore._


	28. Chapter 28

_"Here we are at the starting line; as the seconds fade and the minutes move, I'm by your side; from curtain up to closing scene.”_

* * *

Cook looks up from the guitar he's been tuning to see Archie standing in the middle of the stage, looking out at the empty audience seats as if in a daze. Smiling to himself, Cook sets down his guitar and walks over to the younger man to stand beside him.

"Feels like home, doesn't it?" Cook murmurs as they look out at the Sandy Amphitheater, and Cook doesn't mean Archie's home state, not exactly; he means this, the stage, where Archie hasn't been in a long, long time.

"Why does being home feel so terrifying?" Archie whispers.

Cook looks at him, his gaze softening. "Maybe it's the fear of not being welcome, anymore."

Cook catches his startled gaze; smiling softly, he lays a hand on Archie's shoulder: "You are, Archie. You are."

Archie looks at him for a long moment, before stepping into Cook's space completely and wrapping his arms tight around Cook's waist.

"Thank you," Archie whispers, and Cook's throat tightens as he returns the embrace, welcoming Archie home.


	29. Chapter 29

_"I drew a little picture, but some things you can't put on paper; what can I say, maybe I've known you all my life"_

* * *

Archie blinks as Cook presents a folded piece of paper to him and grins: "Remember when you drew this for me when the tour ended?"

Archie looks down at his hands and opens the paper; he immediately recognises his own scrawly drawing of a clock and the caption he quickly scribbled below: _"Time stops whenever I'm with you."_

He blushes scarlet when he suddenly remembers his own daring when he first declared his crush to Cook, just before they parted ways after the tour. Cook grins when he sees the expression on Archie's face, knowing _exactly_ what Archie is thinking of.

"I've been wanting to write a song about that for a long time now," Cook inclines his head toward the drawing, and Archie can't believe Cook has kept it all these years. "And now I think I've finally put something together."

The confidence fades from Cook's face a little as it softens into a shy smile. "... Would you like to hear it?"

And even though Archie is feeling the heat of embarrassment down to his toes, it's tempered by the warmth of tender affection. "Of course, Cook."

And when Cook strums his guitar and begins singing about being all the love Archie needs, 'til the clocks run out, the warmth blossoms into full blown _love_ and Archie surges forward to pull Cook by the collar and kiss him.

Cook ends up laughing softly against Archie's seeking lips.  "Wait, I haven't finished singing yet, you have to hear the rest of it—!"

"Later, I promise. Now shut up and kiss me, Cook."

Cook laughs even harder, and Archie looks at him fondly and determinedly kisses the sound from his mouth, feeling the joy down to his bones.


	30. Chapter 30

_"In a sea of people, there was only you. I never knew what this song is about, but suddenly now I do."_

* * *

Archie doesn't know how he hasn't ever realised it before: the way David Cook is always the first one to sign up for the job, no matter where in the state (or in the world, actually) Archie's shows are; the way Cook always presses close in an almost instinctive gesture of protection as part of his job when the crowd of fans get a little overenthusiastic and start grabbing for Archie, and yet whenever they're alone together Cook becomes very shy and averse to touching him with anything other than is what is strictly formal, almost as if Cook is protecting Archie from himself (which doesn't make _sense_ , because Archie feels safest with Cook, and no one else)—

It's only now, when Archie finally catches a glimpse of Cook actually _watching_ him that the realisation hits him like a dash of cold water that, paradoxically, makes him heat up from the inside out.

Because that? The way Cook is looking at him right now, turned away from the crowd unlike the other bodyguards, and focused solely on _him_? The way that piercing, dangerous gaze is tempered by something tender and fond as Cook watches Archie's every move?

... That isn't how an ordinary professional bodyguard normally looks at his charge. Not like Archie is merely something to protect, but also... someone to _cherish_.

Archie nearly falters on a note right there, and he sees the immediate change in Cook's expression, brows furrowing in instinctive concern over his welfare.

Determinedly, Archie tightens his grip on the mic and walks over to the side of the stage where Cook is stationed.

" _Only me, only you, and the band_ ," he sings directly at Cook, unheeding of the screams of the audience behind him, and Archie sees it: the widening of Cook's eyes when he realises that Archie has finally felt it too—this unnamed, fragile thing that's been building up between them for _months_.

" _Trying to reach out for you, touch my hand_ ," Archie sings, a different note of desperation in his voice now, and there: that heady mix of fear and tentative hope in the eyes of the man that has become his sanctuary.

And suddenly, he doesn't ever want to let Cook go.

" _Can't let the music stop_."


	31. Chapter 31

* * *

_"Oh where I've been sold and spun again, all before me like a dream."_  

* * *

Cook stares; this definitely isn't the sight he's been expecting in coming home early: Archie dancing with his socks on their bed, waving a towel around to his song on full blast.

Spinning around, Archie grins at him widely ("This has such a catchy beat, Cook!") and Cook is torn between laughter (because Archie looks absolutely _ridiculous_ ) and surprising arousal (because Archie has a way of gyrating his hips in a very, very distracting way).

 

 

* * *

 _"I crawl into your atmosphere; I know you'll make it right, you're all I need tonight; I believe that you can save me, that you'll never let me fall."_  

* * *

Cook quietly slips into the room he shares with Archie, not bothering to turn on the light; he easily finds the bed even in the dark and crawls underneath the covers to wrap his arms around the beloved boy he knows is lying there.

Archie doesn't have to ask if Cook had a bad day; he can already feel it in the hard set of Cook's shoulders, the tense coil of his muscles.  Cook doesn't ever realise this, but Archie always quietly waits for Cook's breathing to even out, for his body to fully relax into the call of deep sleep, before he allows himself to kiss Cook's forehead goodnight, thankful that he can be here whenever Cook needs him the most.

 

 

* * *

_"I need you with me to push it away; like an ocean, I feel you crash over me; the two of us melting together until we become new."_

* * *

They both hold back on their impending climax as they claw and mouth desperately at each other, refusing to fall in without the other, because if they're going to drown, they're going to need each other breathe; so when they come, it's with nearly simultaneous moans, holding on tight because even when they lose their minds, they intend to never lose their hold on each other.

 

 

* * *

_"No escaping this embrace, every time I see your face; every word that left your lips, left behind your fingerprints."_

* * *

The first night they spend together right after Archie comes home, they just held each other tight; there's no rush to completion when all they want to do right now is savor this, soft and sweet, fingertips relearning the places that make each other gasp and moan and whimper, keeping each other quiet with hushed, lingering kisses.

 

 


	32. Chapter 32

_"Come to me and hold me, and you will see the love I give, for you still hold the key."_

* * *

Archie doesn't know how long he has been staring at the TV screen, even though he has already turned it off moments ago.

He can't get over the strange image of Cook wearing his wedding ring around his finger—and still wearing the key around his neck.

The key that Archie once gave him, a very, very long time ago.

Archie drops the remote on his hotel bed and lets his head fall into his hands. He doesn't understand Cook at all. He thought he once did, even though it had left him quietly broken for a long, long time.

Because he understood, really, that Cook couldn't wait for him. Cook wanted a family, and two years...

Archie swallows, his heart twisting painfully.

Two years is enough time to fall out of love with someone, and in love with someone else.

He doesn't ask for the key back, even as he stood next to Cook and watched him kiss his beautiful bride. He doesn't think his heart can handle it, taking back the only material thing left that connects him to Cook: the key to the apartment they once shared.

Besides, Archie thinks with a heavy sigh, he had once truly thought that Cook would be the bigger man and be the one to give the key back after the wedding. And Archie would accept it too, because he has nothing but good wishes for the newly married couple, because there is nothing in the world Archie wishes so much for other than Cook's complete happiness.

... Even if Archie can't be the one to share in that.

But Cook never came to him. And all too soon, they parted ways. Months passed by without a word between them; Archie poured his entire self into his shows, in the same way Cook did. For a while, Archie thought he'll finally be okay, that the invisible bleeding of his heart can finally be stitched close, in time. And all thoughts of the key faded to the back of his mind.

Until he switched on the TV just as American Idol is showing, and he sees the key dangling around Cook's neck—and over his heart.

All the threadbare stitches he has managed to use to keep himself together snaps as he feels the wound on his heart burst open all over again.

"Why?" Archie whispers, and he sees the carpet beneath his bare toes blur, and he doesn't bother blinking back his tears. "Why aren't you letting go, Cook?"

He looks at his nightstand, and at the closed drawer underneath, and the jewelry box inside that safely keeps the ring he has never been able to give, along with the only other duplicate of the key Cook is still wearing.

"... What are you holding on to?"

He isn't sure if it's a question he wants to ask Cook, or himself.

 

 

* * *

_"Reaching out to you; do you feel it too? Loving you is all I wanna do."_

* * *

Cook watches the scenery pass by the window of the tour bus in silence. The rest of the guys have already fallen asleep, exhausted from their last show. 

Cook feels the tiredness pulling at his eyes too, but he can't sleep yet.   Not before finishing this nightly ritual.

He fingers the key around his neck, and almost immediately, the sensation of the cool metal against his fingertips brings to mind a plethora of memories: turning that key and opening the door to the sounds of the piano playing from the living room, followed with a joyful greeting of, "Welcome home, love!" and the sumptuous smell of dinner cooking in the kitchen; hearing the lock click close, the sound loud in the sudden silence as Cook stares unseeingly at the door, the image of Archie wheeling his luggage away forever branded into his mind like a burn scar.

Cook wraps that key into his fist, holds it over his heart, and closes his eyes in prayer.

(He has never told Archie about this, about the way he speaks to a Divine Being every night to watch over Archie when he can't. He and Archie speak different languages when it comes to this, and no matter how much Cook has tried, he can never learn the language of the Church Archie belongs in.

The Church Archie believes in, still.)

' _You know how much I loved him_ ,' Cook thinks in prayer, feeling the familiar lump in his throat. _'You know how much I love him, still. Once upon a time, I would've fought 'til death for him, to have a life with him, until I realised fighting this battle is killing him more than it's saving him.'_

Cook opens his eyes and looks unseeingly out the window, the lights of the cars passing along the highway illuminating his reflection in and out of view.

_'This world isn't ready for a love like ours. And that's why, as much as leaving him had been tantamount to ripping my heart out... I would rather kill myself than allow the world to hurt him just because he can't stop loving me."_

His face feels wet, and he tightens his hold on the key.

_'So the only thing I ask of You now, is this.'_

Leaning his forehead against the glass, Cook lets out a watery exhale.

 _'Please give us another chance. In another life, in another time, in another world that is finally, finally ready for us_ — _'_

Tremblingly, Cook raises the key to his lips and kisses it.

 _'Let us finally live in freedom and in peace where I can love him with all I have, without fearing for the repercussions it will bring him. And I promise You_ — _I *promise* You_ — _'_

Cook chokes back a sob.

_'... I will never let him go ever again.'_

 

 

* * *

_"And I know there's hope, I see it in your eyes. So take me, touch me, 'cause with a little bit of love, we can win the fight."_

* * *

Archie blinks at the brown paper bag being handed to him by this stranger.

Granted, he is an incredibly handsome stranger, but what on earth is this? 

Seemingly reading his mind, the handsome man quirked his mouth in amusement. "It's stale bread," he explains, and Archie sort of gapes at him, because that clearly doesn't make any sense? He looks down a little self-consciously at himself; does he, um, look homeless or something?

The handsome man catches the movement and bursts out laughing. "No, no, it's not for you, it's for them!" He grins and gestures towards the pond before them. "I, uh, noticed that you like feeding the ducks every morning, so I figured I might as well put all this stale bread to good use, rather than let it go to waste."

The man flashes him a disarming smile, and Archie blushes despite himself, feeling the initial spark of attraction bloom to life in his chest, and what the heck, they've only been talking for less than five minutes!

Something the stranger stuck out to him though, and furrowing his brows, Archie incredulously asks: "... How do you know I go here every morning?"

This time, it was the stranger's turn to blush, and when the man scratches the back of his head bashfully, Archie can't help but be endeared to him even more. 

"I work at that bakery across the street," the man finally admits, pointing across the park to the quaint little shop at the other side of the road. "I see you pass by every morning."

"You're a baker?" Archie asks in pleasant surprise, even as his gaze roves across the man's beautifully tattooed arms.

The handsome stranger notices the way Archie's gaze is straying, and the playful glint is back in those hazel-blue eyes. "Yeah, even though I know I don't look like it," he says in amusement. "What about you? What do you do?"

And Archie can't believe this strange serendipity as he answers: "Um, I'm studying to be a pâtissier?"

The other man's eyes widens almost comically. "No kidding? What a coincidence!" he exclaims; and Archie suddenly feels his heart leap in his chest, and he finds himself reeling at the sensation that comes over him, telling him quite strongly that this—this is not a coincidence.

"Can—" the words get stuck in his throat somehow, and Archie swallows as he tries again: "Can I apply as an apprentice at your bakeshop when, um, when I finish studying?"

The handsome man blinks at him for several moments before a slow smile spreads across his face.

"I'm sure the owner wouldn't mind," he muses.

"Oh?" Archie says curiously. "How would you know?"

"Because," the other man grins, "you're talking to him right now."

And the handsome stranger sticks out his hand and finally introduces himself: "David. David Cook."

Archie stares at him. "Are you serious?"

Cook arches an eyebrow. "... I'm quite sure my mother was serious when she named me?"

And Archie can't help it—he laughs out loud, startling the other man into a smile of pleasant surprise. Archie smiles back and slides his palm against Cook's: "I'm David, too. David Archuleta."

Their fingers close over each other—and Archie's vision is momentarily blinded by a searing image of Cook holding him close onstage as confetti falls all around them while Cook sings about the time of his life.

Archie blinks, and the vision disappears as quickly as it arrives, and he sees Cook staring at him in wonder.

"You're also a guitarist," Archie blurts out, finally recognising the feel of calluses on Cook's fingertips.

Cook furrows his brows as he looks at their joined hands. "Strong grip," he murmurs. He glances tentatively up at Archie. "A pianist?"

"Yes," Archie breathes, and _why_ does it feel like his heart is _swelling_?

They stare at each other for several moments more before Cook finally realises he's been holding on a little too long, and lets go.

"So uh..." Cook stammers, "I have a friend who owns a bar, and he has this open mic... thing, tonight..."

Archie holds his breath, knowing _exactly_ what Cook is going to ask.

"... Would you like to, uh, come with me?"

And Archie beams.

"I would love to, Mr. Cook."

The smile that lights up Cook's entire face is so strangely, beautifully... _familiar_.

"Then it's a date, Mr. Archuleta."

 

 


	33. Chapter 33

**Locked Away by R. City ft. Adam Levine (3:50)**

_“If I got locked away_   
_And we lost it all today_   
_Tell me honestly_   
_Would you still love me the same?_   
_If I showed you my flaws_   
_If I couldn’t be strong_   
_Tell me honestly_   
_Would you still love me the same?”_

* * *

Archie stiffens as he hears the bathroom door open, but doesn’t look up; he tightens his hold on his knees, bringing them closer to his chest, and buries his head deeper into his arms, knowing precisely who it is that followed him.

He doesn’t want Cook to see him like this, and it’s that thought that makes fresh tears appear.  He’s thankful his face is mashed into the sleeves of his jacket, so that Cook can’t see how stained and rumpled his face is from crying.

He’s tired.  He’s so, so tired.  Of everything.  Of the industry making demands on him that he doesn’t know if he can ever meet.  Of the music he doesn’t want to sing, doesn’t want people to hear, knowing it’s not the songs his heart is capable of singing.  

 _‘Leave, Cook, please,'_ he thinks fiercely: _'Don’t watch me break down like this.’_

Footsteps echo on the tiled floor, but instead of moving away, he hears it walking toward him.  The sound of footsteps stop, and it is instead replaced by the shuffling of clothes as he senses Cook sitting on the floor in front of him.

He waits for Cook to make a move, to say anything, but instead, there is silence.

Despite the cacophony of fears screaming at him to retreat, to lock himself away from the world… curiosity wins over Archie.  Slowly, hesitantly, he raises his head, fully expecting to see that hateful, dreaded pity on Cook’s face.  He braces himself for it—

And he is surprised when he instead sees a small smile playing softly on Cook’s face.

Archie doesn’t understand, and he knows the shock and confusion is evident on his face.  Cook, however, steadily meets his gaze and doesn’t look away, despite how horrible Archie knows he looks right now: stage make-up caked to his face, ruined by the salty tears streaming from his red-rimmed eyes.

Cook opens his arms, silently.

And Archie’s vision blurs as he bites his lip, understanding the message for what it is.

He crawls into the space Cook makes for him, and safe inside the cocoon of Cook’s arms, Archie breaks.


	34. Chapter 34

**Lost Stars by Adam Levine (4:34)**

_“And I thought I saw you out there crying  
_ _And I thought I heard you call my name  
_ _And I thought I heard you out there crying  
_ _But are we all lost stars trying to light up the dark?”_

* * *

David pauses on his way back to his own room when he sees the young man at the other end of the hall. 

He doesn’t know what it is about him, but David finds himself drawn to this stranger, especially at the way the man is crumpled over with his hands on his knees.  As David approaches, his eyes widen as he sees the telltale glistening of tears dropping from beneath the man’s auburn bangs, hiding his eyes.

Slowly, he settles himself several inches away from where the other man is seated.  He sees the way the other man stiffens, but otherwise doesn’t make any untoward reaction.  David bites his lip; his voice is still hoarse from disuse, and the doctor advised him to not speak at all.  He’s thankful he’s brought his notebook and pen with him when he left his hospital bed to go for a walk around the floor.

He opens the notebook to a blank page and quickly scribbles on it.  Then, hesitantly, he slides the notebook to where the other man is.

The man glances at it, and David sees a watery smile break through his face when he reads what’s written on it.

‘ _Are you okay?_ ’

The man looks up at him, and David is struck by those eyes: a maelstrom of colours revealing a deeper storm of emotions.

“I am,” the man answers, his low baritone raspy from choking back his tears.  “But my brother isn’t.”

David tilts his head questioningly, and he sees the man’s shoulders slump further.

“I know he must be living in hell every single day.”  The man shakily runs his hand over his face.  “God, I wish there was some way for me to take his place.”

And David suddenly understands. He looks around, and realises they’re sitting by the cancer ward.

David looks away, allowing the other man his privacy as he composes himself.  He takes back the notebook and writes something else.  He glances at the other man, and slides the notebook back.

‘ _I wish I can make it go away.’_

Something in the other man’s gaze softens when he reads that, and when he looks up at David again, David offers a tentative smile back.  

With the hand that isn’t attached to the IV bag he’s been wheeling around, David reaches over to touch the other man’s. He watches the way the man is startled by his touch, and David waits, loosening his hold to allow the other man to pull away, if he wants to.

Taking a deep breath, the stranger turns his hand over, and links his fingers through David’s instead.

‘ _Will you think that you’re all alone when no one’s there to hold your hand?’_ David thinks, suddenly.

He curls his fingers, and simply holds on.


	35. Chapter 35

_**Keep Holding On - Avril Lavigne** _

 

Archie can’t speak, so he lets Cook do all the talking for him.

He lets his arms pillow his cheek as he listens with a soft, contented smile to the way Cook is talking through the computer screen, telling him about the day he spent in LA.  Cook asks him how his concert in Taiwan went on earlier, and in response Archie sends him a video of the song, and its translation.

When it cuts back to the screen, Cook is looking at him a wistful, warm smile, and they share a fond look as words pass unspoken between them, understanding what it all means.

“The moon represents your heart, huh,” Cook says softly, and to his credit, Archie blushes and nods.

Cook reaches out to touch the screen then; heart in his throat, Archie reaches out to do the same.

When they’re thousands of miles apart like this, Archie makes it a point to remind Cook that he’s still with him wherever he goes, and that no matter what language he sings in, it’s their love he’s still singing about.

He wants Cook to always remember to keep holding on to this love, because Archie knows—even without Cook ever telling him the full extent of what he went through alone when Archie was in Chile—that Cook has suffered greatly without hearing a word of reassurance from Archie in those two years apart.

So Archie makes it a point to make up for it through this: everywhere he goes, he sings about Cook, about the love he has for him—the love he will always, always have for him.

 

* * *

 

_**How am I supposed to live without you - Moon Myung Jin** _

 

Archie wouldn’t meet his eyes when he opens the door to his hotel room.

To be fair, Cook doesn’t know what to say either.

Cook lets himself in as Archie wordlessly steps back, his gaze looking everywhere but at him.  Cook thinks it’s guilt, and hates himself for even entertaining the thought, because Archie doesn’t owe him an explanation.  This is Archie’s life, and he alone has the prerogative to make decisions about what is right for him.

It just doesn’t take away the fact that the realisation that he’s gonna have to let him go is killing Cook on the inside.

“It’s not forever,” Archie says softly, suddenly, and Cook’s heart tightens when Archie finally looks at him.

“I’ll come home after two years,” Archie promises as he steps forward, his eyes so wide and liquid, and Cook half wants to tell him to stop, to not move an inch closer, because it’ll make it even harder for Cook to remind himself all the reasons why he _shouldn’t_ tell Archie that he doesn’t know how he’ll live for two years without him.

Archie doesn’t seem to hear his thoughts, however (or perhaps he hears it all loud and clear), because he reaches out to wrap his fingers around Cook’s wrist; Cook knows Archie can feel his pulse galloping under the caress of his thumb.

“I’ll come home to you,” Archie clarifies, more heartfelt this time.  His lower lip is trembling, but he reaches out determinedly to cradle Cook’s cheek.

“There’s no one else I’ll come home to, but you.”

 

* * *

 

_**Take It All In - Trent Dabbs** _

 

Cook takes a moment to take it all in.

From his peripheral vision, his fellow Idol winers are setting up their guitars, strumming their strings experimentally as they adjust them to the right tune.

Cook smiles as, not for the first time, he marvels at how he finds himself here.

Fifteen years ago, he wouldn’t have thought he’ll be singing in a stage like this, so used to singing in cramped, smoky bars with his band.

Ten years ago, he wouldn’t have thought he’ll ever be singing about a love that’s anything that’s fulfilling, so used to being silver to all his previous lovers, the one always left behind without a second thought.

Four years ago, he never would have thought that the one person he vowed to always wait for will come back for him, and share the stage with him, once again.

Eight years ago, he never would have thought that a shy boy from Utah would steal his heart like this.

“Feeling a little nostalgic there, Dave?” Kris speaks up from beside him, and Cook flashes him a wry grin.  

“Just remembering how it used to be,” he murmurs, and remembers the night when Ryan announced his name, and he pulled the other half of his heart close and whispered to him for the first time the words his heart has been singing from the moment they introduced themselves to each other and found out they shared more than a name.

‘ _I love you,’_ he had whispered then.

“I love you still,” he whispers now, as he picks up his guitar.

From the sidelines, David Archuleta watches with a soft smile, and hears him.

 

 


	36. Chapter 36

_**Stars by Skillet (3:46)** _

 

The crashing of the waves against the shore is a distant background noise, the sand beneath his toes a distant sensation.

His gaze is fixed toward the heavens as he remembers what his pastor has said, once.  About why human beings… are always drawn to the stars.

(He had been surprised to find out that his pastor is also an astronomer.  Science and religion has never been the best of partners, after all.)

“Why do we gaze at the stars, Elder?” he once asked, out of curiosity.  

“Do you remember, David, what you studied in science class? How sea turtles that were hatched on land know how to return to the ocean by instinct?”  David had nodded, a little confusedly, and his had pastor smiled at him.  “It’s because it’s in our DNA.  Somehow, nature has hardwired us to always look toward where we come from.  It’s why we’re drawn to the ocean, too.  It’s where we’ve come from, based on evolution.”

David had paused as he thought deeply about it.

“And we come from the stars?  Is that what you’re saying?”

His pastor’s features had softened into something indescribably reflective.

“We are made of stardust, David,” he had answered.  “We always look toward where we began.  Where we’re meant to return.”

David shivers as the cold bite of the night wind chills his skin.  He remembers those words… and remembers why he’s here.

He has always returned here.  To them.  To _this_.

As if on cue, he feels the warmth of a jacket being draped over his shoulders.  He looks up and sees warmer hazel eyes looking back at him tenderly, affectionately.

“You shouldn’t go out like this,” Cook tells him, his tone a gentle reprimand.

“Oh?” David says softly.  “Like what?”

“Unprotected,” Cook answers.  “Alone.”

David shakes his head.  “I’m never alone.”  _Not while you’re here_.

Cook only gazes at him for another long moment.  “Why are you out here, Arch?”

 _‘We always look toward where we began,_ ’ he remembers his pastor saying. _‘Where we’re meant to return.’_

 _Do you know_ , he wants so badly to tell Cook, _that I’m always looking at you?_

_Do you know… that you have a stronger pull on me than the ocean?_

_Stronger… than the stars._


	37. Chapter 37

**No Matter What by Boyzone (4:34)**

_“If only tears were laughter, if only night was day.  If only prayers were answered, then we would hear God say.”_

—

Cook finds him in front of the altar.  He swallows, knowing what Archie’s thinking of, knowing why Archie’s feeling a little sentimental after attending his sister’s wedding.

The guests have all piled out, and Archie had begged for a little time alone away from his family.  With an understanding nod from Archie’s sister, Cook had stayed behind to wait for him.

Now, he walks to the front of the altar, and watches Archie as he looks up at the image of Jesus looking down at them.

“Do you think He’ll approve?” Cook whispers.

He feels his heart twisting inside his chest, knowing that whatever Archie’s answer will be… is going to determine where they’re headed, from now on.

Archie is quiet for several moments.  He bows down, as if in prayer, and Cook allows him his moment of silence.

“Do you know,” Archie murmurs, “that I’ve never believed in heaven until I met you?”

Cook stops breathing then.

Archie looks up at him, smiling.  “A love like this can never be wrong,” Archie says with such surety that it makes something inside of Cook’s heart bloom to life.  “And the God I know will never close His gates to a good man like you, Cook.”

Cook stands still as Archie approaches him.  His throat closes.  He doesn’t trust himself to speak.

“And the God I know,” Archie says softly, “will never forbid a love like ours.”

“And what kind of love do we have?” Cook asks breathlessly.

And Archie smiles at him, kissing him right in front of the altar, and Cook feels his soul soar.

“Forever,” Archie vows.  “We have a forever love.”

 


	38. Chapter 38

**Say That You Love Me by Martin Nievera (4:30)**

“‘Cause the pain that’s inside me would simply melt away, if I had you here with me and promise me you’d stay.”

—

It’s the last hotel night before the last show of the tour, and Archie hasn’t felt this terrified in his life.

He nearly jumps out of his skin when he hears the hotel card sliding in, and the door unlocking, moments after.

“Archie?” Cook blinks.  “Why aren’t you sleeping yet?”

“I…” Archie swallows.  “I was waiting for you.”

_I can’t sleep without you, now.  Because nothing ever feels safe anymore without you there to hold me close, when I’m having nightmares, when I’m having anxiety attacks that you don’t even realise or understand, when I’m crying like the child I don’t want you to see me as._

_I can’t sleep without telling you, because I don’t want to lie to you anymore._

“Oh,” Cook says, frowning, completely oblivious to the internal meltdown Archie’s having.  “Is there something wrong?”

“Why would you automatically assume that?” Archie says a bit defensively, and then bites his lip.  Cook merely smiles knowingly.

“That’s why,” Cook says softly.  

Archie holds his breath as Cook sits beside him on the bed.

“Archie,” he says gently.  “I’m not going to ask you if you don’t want to tell me.  But… I just want you to know… you can trust me.  With anything.”

“What about my heart, though?” Archie whispers.

“… What?”

Archie looks up at him, all the hope and fear and determination lodged in his throat.

“Can I trust you with my heart?”

Cook doesn’t respond for several moments, and Archie feels all his fears coalescing.

“Only,” Cook finally answers, “if I can trust you with mine.”

 


	39. Chapter 39

**Poet by Bastille (2:45)**

_“Your body lies upon the sheets of paper and words so sweet.  I can’t say the words, so I wrote them into my verse.”_

—

He remembers the first time he ever wrote about Archie, during the whirlwind of Idol.

_Here are my terms, have some faith in me, and I’ll let you be who you need to be._

It’s amazing, and little heartbreaking, how he seems to have a written a foreshadowing of sorts, as that is exactly what happens four years later, when he has to.. let go of Archie like this.

He wonders… if he writes a new verse now, will it come true for them too?  Even now, when there’s radio silence between them, when he doesn’t know if, when Archie comes home, he still wants to come home to _Cook_?

 _Something still comes over me,_  Cook thinks. _Just a chill in the winter breeze_.

He remembers how Archie would shiver in the cold, and snuggle close to Cook for warmth.  

 _I’m always gonna keep you warm_ , Cook thinks fiercely.  _I’m… I’m gonna love you endlessly_.

He reaches for a pen, the first piece of scrap paper he could find, and wishes the words will live forever.


	40. Chapter 40

**Never Seen Anything (Quite Like You) by The Script (3:23)**

_“And your eyes are in your eyes, and my heart’s in our hearts.  Sometimes words just ain’t enough, for this love that’s more than love.”_

—

David Archuleta, Cook decides with a blissful sigh, will _always_ be a sight for sore eyes.

The sight of those crinkling eyes as Archie beams at him takes away all the lingering jet lag clinging to Cook’s limbs from the red eye flight to LA, and it’s all he can do to keep himself from pulling the boy close.

He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Archie quite as… _beautiful,_ as he does tonight.

His breath catches as he sees Archie step out, decked in his all-white outfit, and he can’t help but sway a little dizzily at the onslaught of memories, remembering a night not so long ago when Archie had walked down the aisle in white, and Cook had become, quite possibly, the happiest man on earth.

Archie blinks as their gazes meet, and his expression softens as he sees Cook in a similar outfit.  

Cook feels his heart swelling, as he thinks it’s fitting that it’s here, on the Idol stage, that they would both be wearing white again.  

This stage, after all, had been their beginning.

It’s only fitting that as this stage of their life ends, so does their life together… begins.

Cook slips his hand through Archie’s and squeezes.

“Ready?”

And Archie looks up at him, with all the trust in the world.

“.. With you?  Always.”

 


	41. Chapter 41

**Falling by Emmy Rossum (4:03)**

_“You are everywhere inside my head, and I’m tangled up in your web.  So surreal, but I like how it feels in this reverie.”_

—

Archie feels dizzy again, and he knows exactly what the cause is.

Cook’s hand has drifted to the small of his back again, and he can’t help the shiver that comes over him at what Cook doesn’t know is a very intimate touch for him.

Cook glances at him, as if to check that he’s okay, and he’s about to pull his hand away with a frown when Archie swallows back a whimper and leans wordlessly against him.

Cook wraps his arm around Archie’s shoulder immediately by instinct, and Archie sags against him in relief.  Cook blinks, before he smiles fondly, and holds Archie even tighter.

Archie doesn’t know what’s happening.  It feels like he’s forgotten what gravity feels like, feels like the world has been pulled under his feet, feels like he’s _floating_.

He’s afraid to acknowledge what this is.  Not because he doesn’t know what it is—because he knows _exactly_ what his heart is screaming every time Cook’s near—but he’s afraid of what it might do to his relationship to Cook.

If he falls for Cook completely, Cook might not be there to catch him.  And Archie’s afraid… if he shatters from this, he might not recover ever again.

As if hearing his thoughts, Archie opens his eyes (that he hasn’t even realised he has squeezed shut) when he feels Cook’s lips press against his hair.

“Never,” Cook murmurs.  “I will never let you fall.”

 


	42. Chapter 42

**Standing By by Pentatonix (4:13)**

_“And we’ve traveled land and sea.  Our beacon: the love we keep.  But when we unite, this will all have been a dream.”_

—

Archie looks up as he sees the plane taxing along the runway.  His heart suddenly gallops against his chest, as if his ribs cannot anymore contain his heart that’s yearning to come _home._

His boarding pass shakes in his hand as he shifts restlessly in his seat, waiting for the stewardess to announce that they’re ready to embark the plane.  He looks out of the glass windows, to where the sky above Chile is bright with countless stars.

He wonders if Cook is sleeping now, or if he’s looking at the same sky, like him.

Archie wishes Cook can see the stars here in Chile.  It’s so much brighter and clearer than back home, and he wishes… he wishes he could’ve shared all of his beautiful experiences here in this beautiful country with Cook.

His heart twists as he remembers the two years apart, and wonders… if Cook will still be there.

If Cook… doesn’t already belong to someone else.

He presses his hand to his chest to still its rabbit-fast beating.  He closes his eyes and breathes… and listens.

He has always followed the call of his heart, and allows it to take him where it guides him.  He feels that it’s powered by something deeper than himself, something he can only call as his soul, responding to the unfathomable pull of the universe.

He listens now, all over again, to what his heart is saying, and in the quiet of his mind…. he hears Cook’s voice loud and clear.

_“I’ll be here to welcome you home.”_

 


	43. Chapter 43

**You Set Me Free by Michelle Branch (3:11)**

_“‘Cause I wanted to fly, so you gave me your wings.  And time held its breath so I could see.  Yeah, you set me free.”_

—

Archie looks up at the way Cook is smiling serenely at him.  He doesn’t understand—why is _Cook_ okay with all of this, when Archie’s never felt so terrified in his life?

As if sensing the war waging inside his heart, Cook steps forward and presses his forehead against Archie’s.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Cook murmurs as he strokes Archie’s cheek with the back of his hand.

And Archie doesn’t want to cry about this all over again, not when it feels like he’s been sapping Cook of every strength with all of his emotional breakdowns about this difficult decision.  He’s so afraid to leave behind everything he’s ever known for two years, and yet… and yet Cook is _here_ , the one person he can’t bear living without, comforting him, encouraging him, urging him to take that jump into the unknown.

“Why are you so sure?” Archie whispers as he falls forward, burying his face in Cook’s chest and clutching his shirt between his shaking hands.

Cook’s arms wrap around him.  

“Because I’m sure of you,” Cook answers simply.  “I’m sure of us.  And I’m not afraid.”

Archie’s eyes widen at that as he looks up at Cook.

“I’ve doubted a lot of things in this world,” Cook says softly as cups Archie’s jaw.  “But your love… isn’t one of them.”

 


	44. Chapter 44

**Tell Me Where It Hurts by MYMP (4:19)**

_“Give me a chance to put back all the pieces, take your broken heart, make it just like new.  There’s so many things that I can do.”_

—

The first time Cook hears it, he thinks he’s only dreaming.  

He turns over in his bunk to blink blearily at the roof of the tour bus—and he hears it again.

It strikes at his heart like nothing else.

“Archie?” Cook calls out softly. 

The sniffling stops immediately, and Cook frowns.  He rolls out of his bunk and climbs to the top to where the boy is curled into a lonely looking ball in the middle of the bed.

Cook settles himself at the foot of the bunk, letting Archie know he’s there before he speaks.

“Do you…” Cook hesitates.  “Do you need some company?”

He sees the way Archie’s body stiffens at that question, and Cook wonders if he has crossed a boundary he isn’t supposed to.

He’s ready to slide back down to his bunk, because… because he doesn’t have a right to this, does he? Who is he, really, in Archie’s life?

“Please,” he hears Archie suddenly whisper, and Cook’s heart suddenly breaks at such a weak sound.

Gently, he crawls over to the space Archie makes for him, and Archie immediately rolls over to curl against him.  Surprised, Cook wraps his arms around the shaking boy, and suddenly wants, more than anything in this world, to take away whatever it is that’s making him _cry_ like this.

It doesn’t matter if he won’t ever know what it is.  

What matters… is that he can make Archie stop _hurting_.

 


End file.
